


truths you have to grow into

by celaenos



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Bang Challenge, F/F, Swan Queen Big Bang, Swan-Mills Family, mentions of Emma/Hook, mentions of Regina/Robin, mentions of grief/depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4675070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celaenos/pseuds/celaenos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during 4b. Emma avoids her parents expectations and Gold's manipulations by crashing on Regina's couch. A former villain protecting a hero from falling into her own fate; a messily ever after. </p><p>And then, they <i>lived</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	truths you have to grow into

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [truths you have to grow into](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4796480) by [anursingdegreeinfeelings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anursingdegreeinfeelings/pseuds/anursingdegreeinfeelings). 



> big thanks to my cheerleader, Sylvan for her endless support throughout, my beta, Mandy for being a brilliant extra pair of eyes (any further mistakes are totally mine) to my artist, anursingdegreeinfeelings, for their fantastic piece, and to the mods for putting this whole damn thing together in the first place. i had a blast writing this, hope you enjoy!

Regina sleeps in silk pajamas.

If she ever spent any significant amount of time picturing Regina in bed, Emma probably would have guessed that. As it is, she sort of nods to herself at the sight of—despite the late hour—an impeccable looking Regina staring down at her from her doorstep. A frown etches onto her face, and she shivers once from the cool night air as crosses her arms over her chest. “Emma,” she says with a sigh. She sounds tired, but not quite as annoyed as Emma had prepared herself for. “It's late.”

Emma nods. “I know. I'm sorry,” she shifts the weight of the duffle bag that's slung over her shoulder. “Did I wake you up?”

Regina eyes the duffle suspiciously. “Not quite,” she says, dragging the words out. Her eyebrows raise towards the bag in question and Emma sighs.

“Can I crash on your couch?” she asks, so low it's barely even a whisper. Regina frowns at her again, and Emma curses internally, raising her voice. “I... my parents won't stop trying to apologize. And they keep trying to explain why they basically condemned an innocent baby to a shitty life, and lied to me about it. And the baby that they decided to name after my ex-boyfriend—who got me sent to prison—won't stop crying, and I can't sleep.” She feels immediately embarrassed at her jumbled admission and keeps her gaze to the ground, refusing to look up at Regina as she inevitably rejects her.

But Regina surprises her as she sighs loudly before opening her front door all the way, motioning for Emma to step inside.

“Henry is asleep,” she says pointedly.

“I'll be quiet.” Emma promises. She didn't actually expect Regina to let her inside; she had been ready to make the trek down to the docks to stay with Hook. She's actually not sure why she didn't just go over there in the first place. But she had already been in Regina's driveway when the thought occurred to her. Now, she stands beside the couch, shuffling back and forth on the balls of her feet awkwardly while Regina retrieves her an extra blanket and pillow. “Thanks.” Emma says, giving her a sincere and tired smile as Regina walks back into the living room and passes them over. Regina only nods, and holds her arms around herself again.

She stands there, staring at Emma for a moment, then says, “My living room better still be intact in the morning,” and heads towards the stairs. Emma thinks she can see a hint of a smile on her face, but maybe she just imagines it.

…

…

When she wakes up (at an ungodly hour for how long she spent tossing and turning all night long) Henry is standing above her. “Ma? What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Sleeping,” Emma mumbles, and pushes him slightly over to the right, using him to block the sun coming in through the windows. “Shush.” She closes her eyes.

“I can see that,” Henry says, walking away from the couch. He raises his voice as he calls from what Emma assumes to be the kitchen. “Why _here_ though?”

“Because family is overrated. I was incredibly misled as a child. I had it made.”

From somewhere, Regina snorts. Emma shoots upright on the couch, twisting her legs in the blankets, and falling to the floor with a thump. “Fuck,” she hisses, and rubs at her elbow.

“Language, Miss Swan.” Regina admonishes, without much feeling behind it. But Emma has noted that she tends to call her 'Miss Swan' whenever she disapproves of something Emma does. Or, because it's a Tuesday. Emma hasn't quite worked it out yet. Henry walks back into the living room, chuckling at her as he shovels cereal into his mouth. Some of the milk sloshes out from the side of the bowl, and Regina frowns at him. He has the good sense to look ashamed as he slowly backs into the kitchen.

Emma tries unsuccessfully to untangle and upright herself. Regina makes no move to help, instead, follows Henry into the kitchen, calling, “Coffee?” over her shoulder.

“Please.” Emma groans and twists herself around until she has kicked off the blanket. She makes an attempt to fold it back up before heading into the kitchen. Regina is already dressed for the day: a deep green blouse and black dress pants, her hair perfectly coiffed, makeup impeccably done. Emma feels incredibly stupid with her tangled bed-head, morning breath, and her baggy t-shirt and cotton shorts. She runs her fingers through her hair and tugs on the front of her shirt; sticking her shoulders out and trying to hide the fact that she hasn't got a bra on. Regina places a coffee mug in front of her, just a dash of milk, exactly how Emma likes it. She smiles as she brings the mug to her lips.

Henry and Regina start talking, Emma doesn't really catch much of the conversation. Her brain is still fuzzy with sleep. She's content just to sit there, sipping her coffee and listening to the hum of their voices until Henry snaps out her name. He has clearly said it more than once, and he and Regina both stare at her, matching expressions on their faces. Sometimes, Emma sees so much of Regina in Henry that she has to remind herself that she is the one who gave birth to him, not Regina.

“What?” she asks.

Henry sighs, and repeats his question. “Are you sleeping on our couch again tonight?”

“Umm,” Emma looks up at Regina, but her expression gives Emma nothing to go on. So she shrugs, and moves away from the kitchen island. “Bathroom,” she says in way of explanation, and disappears. Her phone dings three times from where she left it on the couch, and Emma snags it as she walks towards the bathroom. All three messages are from her mother. Of the, 'I'm sorry, please come home, give me a chance to explain' variety. Emma deletes them and turns her phone to silent. It only further adds to her generally shitty mood.

Emma turns the water on in the shower and strips out of her clothes. Jumping under the still cool water, she hisses and hops out of the way of the stream, turning the water up hotter as she shivers. When she closes her eyes under the water, she sees her mother's pained face as Emma shoved some of her things into a bag and tore out of the apartment. A hysterical giggle emits from her, and Emma clamps a hand over her mouth. Her whole body starts shaking, and this time, it's not from the cold. The water has become scalding, her skin turning pink. She thinks that maybe she should turn the heat down a little, but makes no attempt to do so.

A knock on the door startles her, and that's when Emma realizes that the water has gone cold. Her skin is now pink for a different reason, and she hasn't even washed her hair yet.

“Emma?” Regina's voice calls out tentatively.

“I'll be right out.” Emma yells back. She shuts off the water and looks around the room for a towel, realizing she didn't bring any clean clothes with her into the bathroom. “Fuck,” she mutters, and wraps the towel around her body, hair dripping. She yanks the door open, mumbles, “Sorry,” and sidesteps past Regina to get her bag.

Hook is standing in the middle of the living room, staring at her with a confused expression on his face. “Emma?” he asks.

“Fuck,” she mumbles again, one hand on her duffle and one hand holding the towel up. Regina walks up behind her and Emma feels her arms pebble with goosebumps. “Um...”

“Your parents were looking for you.” Hook says, looking at Regina once before directing his attention to Emma and effectively ignoring her. “They were worried. Thought you might be with me.”

“Right,” Emma swallows. “Well...” she looks over to Regina, but all she gets is an arched eyebrow and nothing more. “I'm fine,” she finally says. “And a grown woman,” she adds. “Tell them to try worrying about the kid they've got who's actually in need of it.” Hook blanches a little under her anger, and Emma's shoulders sag. “I'm fine,” she repeats. “I'll talk to you later.”

She grabs her bag and dashes back into the bathroom, still dripping water everywhere. Leaving Regina and Hook to whatever weird, cobra posturing thing that they've got going on between them.

…

…

She escapes back into the kitchen once she's dressed and combed her hair. It's still wet, but it's no longer dripping all over Regina's floor. She sits on a stool at the kitchen island, hungry, but unwilling to just riffle around in Regina's things without permission.

Regina walks into the room and looks at her. Emma can't parse whatever emotions run over Regina's face before she schools her expression to neutral. “Sorry.” Emma says.

“For?” Regina asks, stepping around Emma and opening the refrigerator.

Emma chuckles harshly. “I don't know, everything?” she presses the palms of her hands into her knees. “Showing up at your doorstep after midnight. Hook coming over. Invading your morning with Henry?” she shrugs. “Being here.”

Regina sighs. Something she tends to do often around Emma. She has become better at figuring out what each different sigh means. This one very clearly means, 'You are an idiot, Miss Swan.' She straightens and sets a grapefruit out on the counter, pulling out a knife and cutting it in half. “You don't have to apologize for _being here_ ,” she snaps. Then, something in her softens. Just a smidge. And she sighs again. One Emma hasn't quite worked out yet. “Would you like half of a grapefruit?”

Emma wrinkles her nose at it, but nods and accepts the fruit anyway. They stay there, eating slices of the fruit together. Emma, sitting on a stool, and Regina, leaning against the countertop. Emma has a moment to think that maybe this should be an awkward silence. She and Regina are... well, she thinks they're friends now. She wants them to be. Mostly, they act like they are. She thinks. Emma doesn't have the greatest reference for what friendship entails. She only had one real friend in childhood, Lily. And that ended horribly. After that there was Neal; but he wasn't ever really her friend. And her only friend in adulthood was Mary Margaret.

Somehow, Emma thinks that finding out your only friend is a cursed, frozen in time version of your mother from a different universe doesn't really qualify as something resembling a 'typical' friendship.

Then, there is Regina.

Another thoroughly complicated relationship to try and explain. For all their history, this silence should be awkward. Emma should be itchy and jittery and desperate to leave the room. They rarely spend more than a few minutes at a time alone together. There is usually some sort of buffer. Henry. Her parents. Hook. Gold. Zelena. Robin Hood and his family when they were still here. At the very least, there is usually some crisis to focus on. Not just minutes ticking by, one into the other, the two of them just... being together. It should feel weird.

It doesn't.

Emma watches Regina slip the last piece of grapefruit into her mouth. She manages to do so delicately. Refined. Emma has juice all over her face. She finished her half ages ago, now just watches Regina and tries to will her stomach not to growl so loudly. From the arched eyebrow Regina directs her way, she fails.

“What do you typically eat for breakfast?” she asks.

Emma shrugs. “Cereal. Granny's. You?”

Regina's shoulders tighten as she stands before the sink. Like she's not used to people asking her what she prefers. Emma decides to start doing it more often. Regina knows how she likes her coffee, Emma should know more little things about what Regina likes. They're friends now.

“Yogurt and fruit usually. Sometimes oatmeal,” she finally says, her back still turned.

Emma grins. “If you've got any brown sugar or cinnamon, oatmeal sounds good to me.”

Regina turns around, an odd hint of a teasing smile on her face that makes her whole face glow. Emma swallows. She hasn't ever really seen her look like this before. Relaxed, teasing. Content. She likes it. “Would you presume I don't have cinnamon?” Regina asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Emma remembers, “Henry.”

Regina turns back around, starts pulling things out of the pantry. “The way that all of you Charmings suck down hot chocolate, I've got enough for another twenty years.”

Emma bites back the smile that splits out onto her face and moves to boil some water.

…

…

They make it till lunch before the awkwardness settles in. It's probably a record for them. Emma shouldn't be disappointed, Regina has been astoundingly patient.

When her mother can't get a response from Emma, and Hook proves to be no help, Regina's phone starts ringing. It's unsurprising really. Whenever Snow White can't get help from her Prince Charming, Regina is the first person she turns to with a problem. She has already needed her help with the baby a few times. Her brother. Emma never thinks of him as Neal—it's too weird. She's thankful that most people tend to refer to him as simply, 'the baby'.

Regina answers the phone with a strained voice. Emma watches as she listens to Snow for a moment, scowls, and rises from the couch. She moves into the kitchen without a word to Emma, but she gives her a look which definitely means, 'stay put'. Emma does not.

Once Regina is in the kitchen, Emma tip toes over to the doorway. Straining to listen to Regina's clipped side of the conversation. She crouches like a child eavesdropping on their parents. “No, I most certainly will not...” Regina says. “I believe you should take that up with her... I wouldn't consider that my problem...” then there is a lot of deep sighing where Emma can imagine Regina is pinching the bridge of her nose, and trying very hard not to conjure up a fireball.

Regina snorts, harshly, then says, “If Emma wants to stay here, she is welcome to do so for as long as she wishes. I'm not going to force her to talk to you. This particular problem between you and your daughter happens to be entirely of your own making.” She sounds a little vindictive as she adds, “For once, you cannot blame me. And I won't apologize for allowing a friend to stay in my home just because it makes your life difficult.”

Emma grins despite herself at hearing Regina refer to her as a friend. It's the first time she has heard her say so without making some sort of sarcastic comment immediately following it.

Regina says something else, then hangs up, and Emma scrambles to upright herself and get back to the living room. She trips, falling over the top of the couch, and sits up with posture far too rigid to look innocent. Regina clucks her tongue and raises an eyebrow, but otherwise says nothing as she resumes her spot on the couch opposite Emma.

“Your mother says hello,” she offers a moment later.

“That all?”

“No.”

Emma waits, but Regina doesn't comment any further. Desperate for something else to talk about, Emma puts her foot in her mouth. “So, how's Zelena?” she asks.

Regina's eyes flare momentarily before she gets a hold of herself. “Last I checked, still vowing to murder me the moment she's freed,” she says dryly. She doesn't look at Emma, her gaze focused on Henry's xbox controller on the coffee table before them. Emma reaches out without thinking. Placing her hand on Regina's thigh before Regina lets out a barely there gasp at the contact, and Emma tries to awkwardly pull her hand back. Apparently, they aren't the kind of friends who comfort each other. Emma presses her hands together in her lap instead.

“I'm sorry,” she says. “That she's still so...” Emma trails off, unsure of how to put it.

“Evil? Murderous? Hell bent on killing her younger sister?” Regina provides.

“Having a rough time.” Emma says.

Regina nearly cackles. “Is that how you would describe enacting a curse on an entire realm, trying to murder your only living family member, and attempting to use an innocent child to open a time portal. Then, faking your own death, opening said time portal, and ensuring that the former wife of your sister's current boyfriend is brought back by the dolt you forcibly engaged to a monkey with wings?” Regina snaps.

“That... that was rude to bring up.” Emma says, a hint of a whine to her voice. She doesn't need reminding that she dated a goddamn flying monkey for nearly a year of her life. Or that she had actually considered marrying him. Regina smirks at her. Emma can't help but be thankful that she no longer seems to hold a grudge on Emma for bringing Marian back. “And... yeah, I would call that a rough time. She'll come around.” Emma promises. “You did.”

“Did I?” Regina asks. Her voice cracks ever so slightly and Emma's chest clenches. She very nearly gropes at Regina's thigh again. How can Regina possibly not see just how far she has come since they've met? Hell, since a few months ago. They're sitting on her couch talking about things without really snapping at each other. The couch that Regina let her spend last night on. Months ago, Emma couldn't get Regina to stay in the same room as her for more than a minute without poofing herself away in anger. Furious over Emma falling right into Zelena's trap, rescuing Marian without knowing who she was. Or how saving her would end up affecting Regina's happiness.

“Yes.” Emma says firmly, placing her hand on Regina's shoulder instead of her thigh. It seems safer somehow, and this time, Regina doesn't flinch. Instead, she almost leans into Emma's touch for a moment. “You have.” Emma insists as Regina sighs and shakes her head. “We're friends. We—” Emma shakes her head angrily, “—you try. You're always still trying. Everyday. That's what matters. That's the difference. It...” Regina is holding her gaze steady, focusing on her in a way that Emma can't ever really remember her doing before. It's almost unnerving to have her undivided attention. “It matters.” She repeats, feeling a little idiotic. “I don't know if you can ever really make up for some of the things you did.” Because as much as they are friends now, and Regina is important, and she loves Henry, she still did terrible things. Emma can understand her anger. Can even sympathize with most of it. Can forgive some of it. But not all. “You're working towards it. You're trying. That's what matters.”

Regina opens her mouth. Closes it. Her eyes look a little watery and she still hasn't released her gaze with Emma's.

Uncomfortable, Emma shrugs. “You figured it out. Your sister will too. Especially if she's got a reason. Like you had with Henry.”

“Which reason would that be?” Regina asks, looking genuinely confused.

“You.” Emma says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Regina finally turns away from her, smoothing her perfectly ironed pants and rising from the couch. Putting distance between herself and Emma. The conversation over like that.

“I should meet up with Maleficent and Rumpel before they wonder where I am.”

“Right. You won't—” she stops, swallows, “—you'll call me if you need backup?” her voice pitches a little higher than she'd intended, and she tries to grin to cover it. “I mean I think August is glad to be an adult again, but still.”

Regina sighs. Another one that Emma doesn't have a frame of reference for yet. “Yes,” she says. “I'll call you.” And then she leaves, and Emma is alone.

…

…

Emma stews. She considers calling her mother for exactly eleven minutes and twenty-five seconds. Then she shoves her cell phone down into Regina's couch cushions before remembering that Regina might need to call her. She leaves her phone on the end table and watches it light up silently with her mother's face every five minutes for nearly half an hour.

Emma turns the television on. Flicking through channels aimlessly until she leaves it on, halfway through a Sandra Bullock movie that she recognizes but doesn't remember the plot of. It's one of her earlier ones. Emma drums her fingers along her knees until she drives herself nuts. Getting up, she goes into the kitchen and makes herself some popcorn during a commercial.

By the time she is partway through a second movie—some action film—Henry walks back through the front door, backpack slung over one shoulder. He arches one eyebrow at her. A perfect imitation of Regina that Emma blanches under.

“Whatcha doing?” he asks, hanging up his bag and coat and putting his shoes beside one another. Out of the way. Regina has him trained well. He never did that when they were in New York. He was certainly cleaner than Emma, whose things were strewn haphazardly everywhere, but only marginally.

“Movie.” Emma supplies.

He plops himself down beside her and frowns at the screen. “What movie?”

Emma shrugs.

“Are you gonna avoid your mom forever?”

“Says the kid who spent the better part of a year or so dodging his mom.” Emma says, her eyes on the screen in front of her. Whatever it is, it's not a good movie.

“She was evil and I'd only just found out about it,” he protests. He crosses his arms and slinks further into the couch, angry with his former self. “Besides, I was inchoate then.”

“What?”

“Inchoate,” he repeats. Emma merely stares, blank look on her face until he sighs. “It means 'just begun' or 'not fully formed'. I was just a kid. I didn't get that stuff isn't just good or bad. There's a middle.”

“You're still a kid.” Emma reminds him. Just because he's matured a lot in the last year, and he's shooting up like a weed, nearly taller than both his mothers—or, at least, well on his way—it doesn't mean that he's not still a fourteen year old kid.

“I know.” He says easily. “But I'm less inchoate than I was before.”

“Where the hell did you get that word from?”

“Vocab word for school.”

“Huh... wanna play a video game?”

Henry grins and shoves a controller into her hands.

Hours later, they're still at it. Popcorn littering the floor and two large bowls of cereal in front of them on the table when Regina finally walks through the door. Emma is distracted by how tired she looks and Henry takes advantage. Killing her in the game and doing a victory dance. Emma yelps and pinches him on the shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Regina snaps. She walks closer and grimaces at the soggy congealing contents of their large kitchen pans. “What is _that_?”

“We wanted to see what they'd taste like all mixed together.” Emma mumbles. It seems much more childish said out loud. It had sounded like a great idea when they were shaking bits of every cereal in the house into the bowls. The taste had left something to be desired.

Regina levels her with a look that makes Emma feel more ridiculous by the second. Then she turns to Henry. “Have you done your homework? It's nearly nine.”

“Uhh...”

Regina points to the stairs. “Now.”

As Henry slinks away, Regina shrugs out of her coat and Emma scurries to clean up their mess. “Sorry,” she says, swiping popcorn kernels into a pan still full of cereal. “Are you... did everything go okay?”

Regina doesn't answer. “Are you sleeping on my couch again tonight Miss Swan?”

“I—could I?”

“If you clean it up.” Regina says, without looking at Emma. She ascends the stairs, calling out to Henry that he has half an hour before he needs to be in bed. She doesn't come back down.

Around ten, Emma flops down onto the couch and lays there, trying to fall asleep for hours in the dark.

…

…

Emma stays on Regina's couch for the next three days. She wakes up when Henry and Regina come down to the kitchen for breakfast. Eats with the two of them, shoveling food into her mouth the minute Regina puts in down in front of her. (“Miss Swan, no one is about to yank that away from you,” Regina snaps. Then, winces, looking guilty as Emma mumbles that the older foster kids used to do just that. You got used to eating quickly, or you didn't eat at all. “Well, no one is taking it from you now, do chew your food before I'm forced to perform the Heimlich.”) Then they send Henry off to school and begin sorting through Regina's books, looking for any more information about The Author.

Emma's phone continues to ring throughout each day. Her mother. Occasionally, her father. And every so often, Hook. Emma ignores them all.

She sits with Regina, reading till her eyes hurt and she has to shove the books away from her. She rises, and stretches her arms out, her shirt rucking up a bit and exposing her stomach.

Regina makes an odd noise from the couch, but when Emma turns to look at her, her face is carefully blank.

There's been a lot of that. Odd looks. Regina very carefully avoiding bumping into, or brushing up against Emma in any way shape or form. There always seems to be at least three feet between the two of them. When Emma leans over to see what Regina is reading on the second night, she nearly jumps out of her skin. Pulling away as though she's been burned. Emma doesn't know what to make of it. She tries not to think about it too much.

…

…

On the fourth day, Regina refuses to stay cooped up with Emma any longer. Instead, heading out to follow their latest lead, and thankfully, not saying anything when Emma opts to stay in. Snow had tried coming over to Regina's house the afternoon before, and Regina had very nearly chucked a fireball at her head. Only the fact that she had baby Neal in her arms had stopped her. Snow had yelled about Emma having to come out and talk to her sometime, until the baby had started to cry and she left reluctantly.

While Regina and Henry are both gone, the house feels too big. Too quiet. Too stifling. Emma wanders out to the backyard and despite the chill, plops herself down in a lawn chair and refuses to move—even once her teeth are chattering from the cold.

Three o'clock comes and goes and Henry doesn't come home. Emma considers the ramifications of calling the National Guard until she remembers that he was going to go visit Snow and David for the afternoon. He had some present that he wanted to give the baby. She shoots him a text message anyway. Zelena may be locked up in the hospital, Regina's magic keeping her from leaving, but Gold is back in town. Queens of Darkness in tow, wreaking havoc on all their lives. It's not too much to ask for a text message showing proof of life once or twice a day.

Henry sends her a picture of him and the baby. Henry, grinning while the baby contently sucks on three of Henry's fingers. The kid is teething. He chews on anything close enough to his mouth. Emma can't help but smile a little herself at the sight.

She sits there, in the cold, staring at the picture on her phone until she's had to tap the screen five times to keep it from going to sleep. The sun sets. A brilliant hue of orange and pink that shouldn't go together, but does. Her stomach growls, but Emma ignores it, not wanting to go back into the house alone. It's stupid. It's also entirely of her own making. She is about to cave, call Hook and ask him to bring Granny's down to his damn ship, when the back door opens.

“You do realize that you're sitting out in the cold without a jacket?” Regina's voice calls out dryly.

Emma grins, trying to suppress her shiver and failing. “Not so cold.”

Regina harrumphs at her and closes the door. Leaving her to her idiocy.

Emma jumps up and follows her, shaking as the warmth from inside hits her. Her body is confused by the sudden change, and she ends up shivering much more than she had been before. She definitely should have worn an actual jacket, not a hoodie. Regina glances up from where she is hanging up her own coat—end of winter appropriate—and arches an eyebrow at her. She points to the fire. “Sit,” she orders. She says it like Emma will just obey, still queenly, used to her orders being followed. Out of sheer spite and the principal of the thing, Emma starts to argue. But then her body protests and she shuffles over to stand in front of the fire, shivering and rubbing her hands together. She'll make it a point to argue a lot with the next thing. Whatever it is.

“The baby's using Henry as a teething ring,” she says, because the silence begs to be filled. Regina looks up at her. “I've got a picture.” Emma tugs her phone out of her pocket and scrolls to it, holding the phone out to Regina. She hesitates, then walks a few steps forward to look at it. The smile that slips out onto her face is one Emma's come to recognize as the one she reserves only for children. It twists Emma's stomach in a way that she hasn't ever been able to describe well. Longing maybe. She would have killed to have had a foster parent look at her with that fond smile. But that brings up all sorts of weird and conflicting thoughts regarding Regina, and Emma tends not to dwell on it.

“Have you eaten?” Regina asks, snapping Emma to attention.

“Oh... um... no.”

“It's nearly eight.”

Emma shrugs. “Wasn't hungry.”

The snort Regina lets out at that could never, ever be described as dignified, and Emma is never going to let her forget it. Even if it is at her expense.

“Come on, I'll make something.”

“You don't have to. I'll just get a bowl of cereal. Or a sandwich or something.”

“I need to bake something.” Regina says absently. Emma frowns, but follows her into the kitchen.

The first morning here, she had felt so out of place. The way that Regina and Henry were just so comfortable, so in tune with each other and their routines, with this room, left Emma somewhere on the outside. It became apparent how much she was still just the tag along in this family. The newcomer. Emma's skin had felt too tight. Like it belonged on someone else and had been put on her by accident. Like her whole body was wrong. Not just out of place in this house, or her parents’ apartment, but out of place in the world. The feeling stayed with her all throughout the first day, and partly into the next morning. But now, as Emma follows Regina into the kitchen, she knows what pan Regina will reach for first. She knows that Regina is going to grab the blue towel to dry her hands after she washes them. She knows no one usually sits at the stool on the left, and slides into it. Her skin still feels tight, but it relaxes occasionally, and Emma can breathe.

“What happened?” Emma asks once Regina has gotten ingredients out and is chopping away. Emma reaches over and snags a pepper, barely dodging Regina's slap.

“I think it's safe to say my cover is blown. Though, I think we knew that already. I know what Rumpel is planning. Or,” she chops at a carrot with much more force than necessary, “I know the basic idea of it.”

“More curses huh?”

“More or less.” Regina says vaguely, and tosses the vegetables into a stir fry.

“Well...” Emma asks, when Regina doesn't offer up any more information. Regina's shoulders tense, like she's preparing herself for a physical blow, and suddenly, Emma doesn't want to hear whatever it is Regina is about to say. She wants to press her fingers in her ears and hum a song. Anything. To stop what's coming.

Regina speaks like she is choosing her words very carefully. “He wants to turn the savior's heart dark. To change all of the heroes to villains and vice versa. He wants his happy ending.”

“I... I'm the savior.” Emma sputters.

“Yes, dear.” Regina can't seem to help but snap. Her face softens immediately. “I know.”

“Well, that's just stupid. I'm not 'going dark' or whatever anytime soon so...” she trails off as Regina turns away from her. Back to the food. “What else aren't you telling me?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“What? Regina!”

“It doesn't,” Regina says firmly. Finality clear in her tone of voice. Emma wants to scream. She is so fucking sick of people keeping stuff from her.

“ _Fine_ ,” she snaps, and stalks out of the room childishly. She can smell the vegetables burning as she yanks the blanket over her head and flops down onto the couch.

…

…

So, things get weird.

Henry immediately picks up on the tension between his mothers and demands to know what is going on. Emma tells him to ask Regina. The way that Regina's jaw clenches as Henry directs his anger towards her makes Emma feel instantly guilty. “Nothing, kid,” she says. “Just... I think I've overstayed my welcome. It's fine. I'll go stay with Hook.”

Regina's jaw clenches further, and Emma could swear she smells something burning.

…

…

Emma doesn't get the chance to move her meager things down to the docks. Apparently, Rumpel has been working with Zelena. Despite one of them being banished to a world without magic for months, and one in captivity with limited powers, they've formulated some new terrible plan to get their happy endings. Robin, Marian, and Roland are in danger. And Regina looks like she's going to combust she is so furious. Emma stands beside her, not looking at her parents as Regina explains that she's leaving. That she has to go help Robin. Snow tries to reach out to Emma and she bristles away from her grasp, stepping closer to Regina.

She wants out of here. She can't even look at her parents without being furious. She follows Regina outside and announces that she is coming with. Regina's not going to have her magic. She's going to need Emma's help. Regina shoots her down, says someone needs to keep an eye on Rumpel and Zelena and Cruella. Emma knows that she is right, is the thing. As much as she needs to get the hell out of Storybrooke, someone's got to be the damn savior.

So, she gives Regina her gun. Regina will probably just end up blowing her head off accidentally, but at least it's something.

Before Regina can do more than take the gun with a frown and place it into her purse, Henry calls them both. Emma can't help but smile at that. Family FaceTime?

But then Cruella's face appears on the screen. And she's got her claw-like fingernails gripped around the back of Henry's neck. Emma feels her stomach drop, and her ribs feel like they are about to crush her from the tightness. One look to Regina, and she knows they are feeling the exact same thing. Together, they bolt. The gun, and New York, and Robin forgotten.

…

…

A swan is an emblem of grace. Of beauty and of lovers. A bird with dense muscle and a terrible temper who is romanticized to be sweet and useless. They'll mob you, swans do, if you get too close to their nests. They have teeth.

…

…

Later, she can't be sure why she did it. She thinks Henry, but then remembers Cruella's taunt of, 'heroes don't kill' and she can't honestly be sure.

She knows that time stops. Maybe only for a millisecond. But it stops. Cruella goes flying over the edge and Emma grabs Henry and pulls him close. Holds onto him too tightly, and gapes at the space where only two seconds ago a human being had been standing. Alive. And now... now she is dead at the bottom of a cliff and Emma did that.

She can feel her parents run up behind her. Her mother lets out a horrified gasp at the realization of what she's done. Emma can't bring herself to care. In a way—just for a moment—she's proud of herself. Happy to have caused her mother pain, to have shocked her so badly. The second that she realizes what she is feeling, Emma wants to throw up.

Henry is okay. That's what is important. Henry is okay. That is why this happened. Henry is okay.

Hook steps forward, grasping at Emma's arm and she yanks herself away. Sees Regina and it's like something inside of her loosens. Regina is here. _Finally_ , she thinks. She doesn't know where the hell she has been. Why she had just left Emma alone trying to save Henry. And she...

Emma gently pushes Henry towards Regina, dodges out of Hook's reach again and runs.

…

…

Of course, the way things work in this fucking town, she doesn't even get a minute to process the fact that she killed someone before she has something else piled on top of it all.

Emma has been constructed on someone else's pain. So much of how she defines herself is in how she protects the vulnerable. She decided that years ago, before she even knew about this whole savior business. And now, because of her, for her, all of that was stolen from someone else. And it's not just some nameless, faceless, innocent baby—it's Lily.

Emma's Lily is Maleficent's daughter. The one person that... Emma bends over and dry heaves. Then, because apparently she's a masochist, Emma goes and rewatches their old tapes in the station. They both look so young. So little. So happy with each other, and Emma took that away. Lily begged her. Over and over. She apologized. She tried. And Emma... Emma couldn't deal with another person letting her down again. Not someone who had become so important to her.

Lily had felt like the entire universe was against her and it was. She hadn't been lying. The world was against Lily. And it was all Emma's fault. Her parents’ fault. It was something that was done to her, and it was done to her because of Emma.

The second that she feels like screaming, or trying her hand at conjuring a fireball, Regina shows up.

“That's her?” she asks, perching on the side of the desk and watching the young girls on the television curiously. “Mal's daughter?”

“Lily,” Emma chokes out. Her throat hurts from not crying.

Regina is silent for a moment, watching as Emma and Lily giggle at each other. Lily, who looks an awful lot more like Regina than Maleficent now that Emma comes to think of it. But that's not something that she has the mental capacity to deal with right now. On screen, Lily beams at Emma and leans forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek. And Emma can almost feel it again. It's all too much.

Regina says that Emma should come with her, and Emma snaps, “I don't need a babysitter.”

“But maybe I need you.” Regina says softly.

And that's kind of all there is to it.

…

…

This is the longest amount of time that Emma has ever consecutively spent with Regina. She has been sleeping on her couch for the last five days, and now they're off on a road trip together. Granted, it's not as much of a road trip as a hurried effort to save three people's lives. Four, if you count Lily.

But, still.

Regina forces Emma into the passenger seat. Declaring that she at least spent the majority of last night unconscious and chained up in her vault, while Emma didn't get any sleep. Emma bristles at that. Her anger at Rumpelstiltskin only growing. The more she finds out about him, the more she realizes that he is behind nearly everything that has gone wrong in her life.

Regina's too. Now, they can add Lily and Maleficent to that list. Along with most of the people in Storybrooke.

Emma is just so tired of goddamn fairytales and all their bullshit.

Regina drives silently. Occasionally muttering under her breath about what terrible mileage Emma's bug gets, and how they are both probably going to die when the engine cuts out. It lulls Emma nearly to sleep; her neck twisted awkwardly to rest against the window and her legs tucked up under her knees.

…

…

When she wakes up, there's coffee. Regina must have stopped somewhere. She passes over a paper cup without taking her eyes off the road. Emma groans, trying to wake up her legs. She's not young enough to sleep in her car without pain afterwards anymore. She rolls her neck twice, then takes too large a sip of the coffee, burning her tongue.

Regina clucks at her. “It says 'caution, hot' right there on the cup Miss Swan.”

Emma grumbles, “Are you ever gonna stop calling me that? I thought we were friends now.”

Regina looks genuinely shocked for a moment, but recovers quickly. “We are,” she says quietly.

“You could call me Emma then,” she snaps.

“I do.” Regina says after a pause. Emma knows that she's being a bitch. The 'Miss Swan' thing doesn't actually bother her anymore. Regina mostly does it to tease. Her version of teasing anyway.

Emma sighs, “I'm sorry. I'm just...” she waves her hand in the air in lieu of explanation, then quickly takes another too-hot sip of coffee before she starts crying.

“What was she like?” Regina asks a few moments later.

“Who?”

“Mal's daughter.”

“Oh,” Emma slips out of her shoes and pulls her knees up, balancing her coffee cup atop them. “She... she was...” Emma swallows, “you know how you meet someone, and they're a stranger, but you're just like... drawn to them? Like there's something you can't put your finger on, but they make everything around you seem kind of brighter? She was like that.”

Something flashes across Regina's face. Too quick for Emma to place it. “You... were the two of you...”

“She was my friend. My only friend.” Emma says. “And... I mean, she was also the first girl that I ever kissed.” Emma can't help but smile at that memory. Even though everything is falling apart around her right now, that's something that no one can take away. Not Rumpel. Not her parents.

Lily, rain-slicked and grinning madly at Emma, their fingers entwined, matching stars on their wrists pressing against each other. Emma had known what Lily was going to do half a second before she did it. She had a chance to pull away. Instead, she leaned closer. Then, lightning crashed around them and they'd broken apart, screaming together. Hands clasped, running to get out of the rain, yelling with delight. Lily had kissed her once more. Slow and uncertain. Pressing herself up against Emma and shaking with cold and from feeling too much. Then they fell asleep, hands still clasped together. Emma had woken up alone. But only because Lily had gone out to swipe them some bagels and cream cheese. She'd come back and produced them with a sly grin, getting cream cheese on Emma's face on purpose so she could kiss it off.

She doesn't know why, but she tells Regina all of it. She's never told anyone about Lily apart to say that they were friends, and then they weren't. Regina listens, offering up little hums of acknowledgement every now and then. And Emma can't seem to stop talking. She tells Regina about how they met. About their first kiss. The few innocent ones afterwards, and the fallout. About Lily blowing back into her life just when she finally found a good family to stay with. Screwing everything up again. Emma, not giving her a chance. Too angry. Too hurt. Too selfish. About how she watched Lily walk away from her, defeated and heartbroken and felt something heavy and terrible in the pit of her stomach. Aching to call her back, but determined that she was better off by herself. Alone. How she kept herself that way until Henry came and found her. Till he forced her to let someone else in for a change.

And Regina listens. Lets Emma get it all out. Every last good thing and bad thing. And now, her and Lilly’s deal isn’t just between her and Lilly anymore. It exists out in the world in someone else now. Emma feels like a huge weight has been lifted off her chest. They're both quiet once Emma's finished. She's poured her heart out and now the only noise inside of the bug is from the tires slapping against the pavement. Just when Emma is about to curl up and try to get some more sleep, Regina says, “Mal was the first woman I ever kissed.”

Something in Emma's brain short-circuits.

“You kissed the mother, and I kissed the daughter, and now we're all basically the same age?” she asks incredulously. Regina laughs, loud and hysterical. “Oh my God,” Emma says through her own laughter, “our lives are so fucked up.”

…

…

They find Lily before they make it to New York. They stop to get more coffee, and gas, and to switch drivers at a diner on the outskirts of New Jersey. Despite her momentary relief at telling Regina everything about Lily, she's still spent. Still thinking about Cruella flying off the cliff and her hands being the thing that pushed her over. Regina tells her to go get the coffee and some food, she'll get the gas. And, Emma doesn't have it in her to bicker or argue, she just goes inside.

There is a charge in the air the minute she opens the door and the little bell overhead dings. Emma recognizes it immediately; if only because she's just been thinking about Lily so much. It's how she always felt when they were together. Now, she knows it's probably their connection. Not Emma and Lily the girls in love, but Destiny with a capital D—fate. Her parents stealing all of Lily's goodness and shoving it inside of Emma; twining them together whether they would have wanted it or not.

Lily is here. She knows it instantly. She sits down and a waitress walks over. Pours Emma's coffee mug with a star-shaped birthmark on her wrist and Emma looks up at her face and gasps. It's Lily. Older, beaten down by life. But it's her. Light brown skin and jet black hair, deep brown eyes that look so weary Emma nearly pulls her into a hug. She's finally grown taller than Emma, and she's way too thin, but it's Lily.

Naturally, Emma puts her foot in her mouth and scares her off. The girl feigns ignorance and says her name's not Lily and stalks over to the counter. Regina comes inside and sits across from Emma and she is too wired. Too excited. She's up out of her seat and following the woman outside, Regina a half step behind her.

When the woman stamps out her cigarette and walks over to the school bus, walking away with a little girl, every lie detector Emma's got goes off. They follow her.

Emma feels buzzed, crawling out of her skin she's coiled so tight. She nearly takes the landlord's head clean off when he badmouths Lily. It's only Regina's voice that pulls her back to herself.

Lily's place is a dump, and there sure as hell isn't any room for a kid. Emma looks around anyway, desperate for something to work today. Instead, she hears her bug being started up, and Lily takes off with it. Leaving Emma and Regina in her shitty apartment.

All of Emma's bounty hunter instincts kick back in, and she's in the front seat of another car and tearing out after Lily before Regina can manage to blink and chase after her. It's just like Lily to pull some shit like this. Always selfish. Always coming in and ruining Emma's life, doing whatever the hell she pleases.

Taking her bug away feels like the last straw. The last thing that was really hers. Her parents lied and manipulated her. Making choices for her without her consent. Rumpelstiltskin twisted himself into nearly every facet of her life from even before day one. Zelena manipulated her into saving Marian and hurting Regina. Ingrid used her as some fucked up replacement family member. And Cruella made her lose control of herself.

Everything feels white-hot and Emma is furious. Madder than she has ever been in her whole life, and she wants to explode with it. She is so goddamn sick of keeping it all in. Being whatever everyone else needs her to be. She is so fucking sick of being the savior.

Emma drives like a maniac. Regina hollering at her from the passenger seat. She slams on the brakes and cuts Lily off and storms out of the car, the gun held tightly in her hands. They're steady when she raises them up and aims the gun at Lily. And she means it. She wants to pull the trigger. And then it’s like there’s missing time. The gun stays trained on Lily's chest. She's down on her knees, arms up in the air, yelling at Emma to just fucking do it. She flies back into herself when Regina says, “You're better than this,” as if it were something she truly believes.

Emma lets out a gasp and lowers the gun. Looks down at Lily, angry tears pouring out of her eyes, looking up at Emma in disbelief. Not that she pulled a gun on her, but that she didn't pull the trigger. Emma chokes and turns away from Lily. Her breath coming out tight and painful, hyperventilating as she realizes what she almost did. What she wanted to do.

She backs away, the gun slips out of her hands and she's panicking. She can't breathe and her knees feel like they are about to collapse any second. She lashes out randomly at the arm trying to hold her up. Not even registering it, till she's flailing. Regina manages to get all of Emma’s limbs tightly to her—using her magic or sheer force of will—and starts talking to her in Spanish; talking at her so fast and so low it sounds like music instead of real words. Emma doesn’t try to translate what Regina’s saying. Her rudimentary high school Spanish class didn't leave her with much to work with. She just lets it wash over her as she bursts into tears.

…

…

It takes her a while to calm down, and once she does, she and Regina split apart real fast. Lily stays over by the side of the road, having her own personal meltdown. Quieter than Emma's. They both seem to finish at the same time, and Lily, with nothing else to do, walks over to them on shaky legs.

Regina takes charge, and she gets no arguments from Emma or Lily. Emma drives, because she needs something to focus on. She keeps darting glances at Lily in the backseat, unable to help herself. Mostly, she just wants to crawl into a bed and stay there for as long as possible, but there is still Robin and Marian to save from Rumpel and Zelena's twisted plan. Emma still isn't totally sure how they are going to get Marian back to Storybrooke with her heart, but, according to Regina, she cooked up some new potion with the help of Maleficent. Emma is trusting the fact that Maleficent wants her daughter back badly enough not to screw them over. That, and for reasons that have recently become more clear, Regina trusts her.

Emma used to trust Lily. That stopped a long time ago.

They don't know exactly what they are walking into when Regina knocks on the door to Neal's old apartment. Emma waits outside of her ex-boyfriend's apartment, standing between the woman who is basically her ex-girlfriend and the woman who... her son's other mother. She wants to laugh, or cry. She does neither.

She hangs back, not quite allowing herself to be beside Lily, as Regina hurriedly bursts into the room and starts explaining things to Robin. The fact that he doesn't believe her right away bothers Emma. That he has the gall to think that this is some crazy attempt to win him back, as if she isn't telling him to get his wife and son and hurry up and come with her. That it takes Marian of all people, to walk into the apartment behind Emma and Lily, listen for all of five seconds, and actually look at Regina's face and know she is not lying.

Emma decides that she does not like Robin Hood; bit of a disappointment if she's being honest. She likes the version where he is a cartoon fox better.

It takes them less than half an hour to pack the things Robin and Marian have acquired in the last few months and all clamber into Emma's bug. It's a tight fit. Emma drives, Regina sits in the passenger seat, and Lily, Robin, and Marian squeeze into the back. Roland on Robin's lap.

The drive back is tense and filled with awkward silences. Roland happily chatters away to everyone, oblivious of the tension in the air. It might be the longest car ride of Emma's life. The three stops they make to go to the bathroom, stretch their legs, and eat are a relief.

“So, Robin Hood's real too?” Lily asks as the two of them buy coffees and sandwiches for everyone.

“Yep. Merry Men and all. Well, one Merry woman. Who's actually Mulan.” Emma accepts the change from the woman behind the cash register, and manages a smile to her that doesn't look like a grimace. “Who's actually Fa Mulan and not technically a fairytale,” she adds. “Chinese legend. Real woman. I don't really get how...” Emma shakes her head, and they step outside, juggling food and drinks in their hands. “None of it makes any sense. I've just learned to mostly stop asking. I mean, I was in Neverland last year. Well, no, two years ago I guess. Last year I was in New York with false memories.”

Lily's eyes widen.

“Everything is weird. Your mom's a dragon sometimes. I've got a friend who's a werewolf. My parents are the same age as me. Regina's sister is the Wicked Witch of the West. Neverland, Oz, and Wonderland are all real places. I saw a grown man get turned back into a boy, after he'd already been turned from a wooden doll into a boy, then grown up to a man, and back into wood. One time, the Mad Hatter kidnapped me. And I can make shit move with my hands if I think about it hard enough, and I'm not using the force.”

Lily laughs. “We tried that once. Remember?”

“Yeah,” Emma smiles despite herself. They'd snuck into a theater showing of one of the Star Wars prequels. Lily had very obviously knocked a flower pot over and pretended that Emma did it with her brain. Then they'd had a Jedi sword fight with stolen baguettes in the park. Lily had won. She declared that her prize should be getting to make out with Emma for the next hour.

Emma hadn't felt bad about losing at all.

Lily smirks at her, clearly remembering the same thing as Emma. Then, she frowns and glances ahead, nodding over towards Regina. “So... you're with her now?” she asks.

“What!” Emma sputters. “No! I—she—she adopted Henry. I—” Emma sighs “—I had a baby when I was eighteen,” Lily's eyes go wide. “It's a long story, but the short version is that I gave him up, and Regina adopted him. When he was ten he found me, and I brought him back to Storybrooke and got pulled into all this fairytale crap and now it's four years later.”

“And, you're with her now?” Lily asks again.

“No,” Emma repeats. “We're friends now. It wasn't pretty before. Lots of fighting and 'he's my son' crap on both ends. I was kind of an ass, she was kind of a bitch. Two curses broken, a road trip to Neverland, some time travel and portals to other worlds, and a year of false memories later, now we're friends.” Emma watches Regina stand stiffly with Robin and Marian beside the bug and frowns. “Well, friendly—ish. It's—I'm not good at the friend thing and neither is she, but yeah. We're friends.”

Lily looks over in the same direction as Emma and matches Emma's frown. “Really?” she asks, confusion in her voice. “Because... when you were... I mean, after, she... do you remember any Spanish?”

Emma shrugs. “Not really, studying was never much of a priority in school for me. I remember a bit of what you taught me, not much. Why?”

Lily bites at her bottom lip and shrugs, looking down at the pavement. “So you didn't understand any of what she was saying? When she...” Lily trails off and Emma stiffens, realizing what she is talking about. Instead of answering, Emma just shakes her head and refuses to look at Lily or over at Regina. “Oh.” Lily says. Then she goes quiet in that heavy way that's louder than talking, and Emma gets the overwhelming urge to bolt.

She wants to ask Lily for a translation. It's also the very last thing she wants to do.

They walk in silence beside each other. Emma not asking, Lily not offering. When they reach the others, Regina looks up to her immediately. Emma passes her a cup of coffee in silence, then moves to stand between her and Marian; making it look like she's just moving closer to give Marian her cup of coffee. Regina looks uncomfortable. Likely, no one else can tell. Regina hides it like a champ, but Emma can see it in the way her back is rigid; her jaw is clenched just a bit too tight, and her grip on her coffee cup is threatening to spill the scalding contents everywhere. Emma steps closer, their shoulders bumping, and Regina's grip loosens.

“We should get going,” Regina says evenly, not a trace of discomfort showing to the rest of the group. “Marian, you should drink this now,” she pulls out a little vial of light pink liquid and holds it out. Marian and Robin both eye it warily, distrusting of magic. Emma wants to glare at them, but, she can't really blame their distrust.

Marian allows herself a moment's hesitation, then accepts the vial from Regina. She pops the cap open and tosses it back, shivering once, then straightens her back. “Okay,” she says firmly, “let's go.”

…

…

The potion works. And then Lily turns into a dragon and attacks Emma's parents.

Emma goes running at a twenty-plus foot dragon to protect them, because they're still her parents. Even if Lily's anger is justified. Even if Emma feels it too. She punches Lily's dragon form in the stomach, hard. It doesn't make a dent. Regina and Maleficent manage to help Lily turn back into herself, and she goes stalking off. Maleficent goes after her. Emma considers it, but stays back. Her parents, bruised and bloodied, panting with the effort of trying to help Lily turn back and not get themselves burnt up in the process, stand staring at Emma longingly.

Hook makes pointed remarks in her direction about forgiveness. It feels more like a guilt trip then helpful advice, and when she hears Regina's snort and muttering about 'dirty pirates who can't manage to wash themselves' she can't help but sort of agree. Not about the washing, Emma showed him how to use the washing machine ages ago. Took that blasted coat away and threw some jeans at him. But, Regina's reaction to his words, that, she gets a little.

But she is so tired. She's tired of fighting everything and everyone. She's tired of being angry. It's exhausting. She doesn't know how much more of this she can handle. She very nearly killed someone that she used to love not fifteen hours ago. She did kill someone else a few days ago. (Has it only been that long?) She can't keep doing this and not lose a part of herself. She's lost enough.

So, she walks up to her parents, says, “Thanks for trying to help,” sincerely, and walks away.

She's tired, but she's not quite there yet.

…

…

Emma goes with Regina and together, the two of them bring Zelena from the hospital to Regina's house. Through magic, they set up new impenetrable barriers around the place, and Zelena is once again locked in. This time, completely cut off from Rumpelstiltskin.

She spends the entire time pridefully berating Regina for her crude and undignified magic. Regina spits back that she is the one in shackles with no magic to speak of. Zelena gives her a worthy glare and stews angrily. Emma isn't ready to go back to her parents loft, and she isn't about to leave Henry and Regina alone with Zelena. Even if she really is unable to hurt them physically.

So, Emma continues sleeping on Regina's couch. The guest room is now Zelena's new prison—much more comfortable than her hospital room. And there are people to bicker with everyday. Emma thinks that Zelena seems honestly cheery about the whole thing.

Henry approaches his aunt with caution and food. Regina has lectured him endlessly about spending time alone with her, but every morning, he knocks on the guest room door and asks Zelena if she would like pancakes. Every morning she says no. But he still continues to ask.

Regina, for her part, either ignores her sister completely, or bickers with her constantly. There is no in between.

On the fourth morning since they'd come back from New York, Emma comes stumbling into the kitchen, mid-stretch. (She had thought that Regina had already walked Henry to school; they were keeping a closer eye on him after Cruella. And Rumpelstiltskin and the Author still had their plans.) She hadn't bothered with pants or a bra, and her tank top rucked up to further expose her stomach. She is greeted by a smirking Zelena, perched up at the kitchen island, sipping her coffee; and a mortified looking Regina, fully dressed. Her eyes seemingly unable to stop staring at Emma's body.

“Morning,” Emma mumbles.

Regina snaps her eyes to a spot somewhere above Emma's head and glares.

Zelena laughs into her coffee mug.

“I... thought no one was here,” Emma says, trying unsuccessfully to cover up at least her lack of bra. The tank top doesn't leave much to the imagination.

“I can't leave.” Zelena says pointedly. “So, you knew that you'd be giving me a show,” she turns to Regina, a teasing look on her face that Emma has seen before. It's just bordering on cruel, but doesn't quite manage it. “Are you trying to tell me something, Miss Swan,” she asks, not looking at Emma, but at Regina. Regina eyes flare dangerously, and a flush comes up on her cheeks. Emma can't tell if it's from anger or embarrassment, but then she levels Zelena with a glare.

“I'm going to your mother's,” Regina says, making a point of ignoring everything that has just transpired. She won't look at Emma, instead, gathers her keys into her purse and pulls on a peacoat. “We need to stop dawdling around and decide what to do about Gold and the Author. Are you coming or not?”

“I... yeah,” Emma shuffles forward to grab a mug of coffee, but decides better of it when Regina tenses in front of her. “Let me just... pants,” she mumbles, and scurries out of the kitchen. She can hear Zelena laughing and Regina hissing something at her as she goes.

They are still going at each other, voices raising just slightly before dropping down to murmurs. Emma ignores them. They fight. It's basically their entire relationship. Usually, Zelena brings up Robin as much as possible. Asking how he and his lovely wife, what's her name? are getting along in the woods. Regina ignores her until she doesn't. Emma and Henry have had to dodge three fireballs in the last four days. None of them actually seem intended to hit Zelena, only to connect directly beside her head. A warning.

Emma yanks on a pair of jeans and a bra. Fumbling with the clasp before pulling her tank top over her head just as Zelena walks into the room. She grins devilishly at Emma. “I do think you're trying to tell me something. Sorry love, women don't do much for me. As fit as you are,” she feigns dropping her voice to a whisper. It actually seems to get louder. “I think you've got the wrong sister for that.”

Emma can hear a choking noise coming from the kitchen.

“Are you ready yet?” Regina snaps a moment later, voice impatient and strained.

Zelena cackles and makes her way back up to her room. Emma yanks a shirt that smells clean over her head and grabs her jacket, running her fingers through her hair and throwing it into a low ponytail. “Yeah,” she calls out, hopping into her boots as Regina rounds the corner. “Ready.”

“About time,” is all Regina says, not looking at Emma once.

Emma has a feeling she might have far overstayed her welcome.

…

…

Emma sits awkwardly on the sofa, pressed against the armrest and Lily. They haven't spoken much since Lily turned into a dragon and tried to kill her parents. Emma isn't sure that there is a protocol for such things. Somehow, Lily is the least of her problems right now. Snow is staring at Emma with something like longing, and she's tried to offer her water, coffee, orange juice, pancakes, french toast, and a lemon meringue pie in the span of time it took Emma to enter the apartment and sit on the sofa.

And Regina still won't look at her. And Emma has no idea just what exactly she has done now apart from not being fully dressed at seven in the morning.

The apartment has never felt smaller. Snow and David are sitting together on a chair across from the sofa, the baby in David's arms. Regina is leaning against the front door, as if ready to bolt at any moment. Emma is squashed onto the couch with Lily, Maleficent, Marian and Robin. And Granny, Mulan, Belle and Will are all sitting on stools in the kitchen. Ruby and Aurora have been forced to sit on Snow's bed.

Emma shifts and Lily jumps as their knees brush against each other. She hears Regina clear her throat loudly.

“Now that we're all crammed into your incredibly small apartment, shall we begin?” she asks; it's not a question. Everyone directs their attention to her, then half of the room turns to Snow. Emma and Maleficent not among them.

“Umm,” Snow starts, “well...” the baby cries and Snow quickly moves to take him, turning to Regina instead. Regina sighs and pushes herself against the wall.

Emma barely listens. Whatever plan they come up with is probably doomed anyway. Gold has his precious author, pen, and according to Belle, has been looking for some special ink for days. They're pretty sure that he has it by now, or almost does. None of their searches have turned up with anything but normal pens. Whatever Gold wants is probably about to happen. Emma's surprised that she isn't more worried about it. She thinks she feels too numb. Too much is happening, she can't focus on all of it at once. So, she doesn't feel any of it.

Lily shifts beside her, and this time, Emma is the one who jumps at the contact. Regina's gaze catches her eye, darting quickly between her and Robin. Emma has no idea what to make of it all. Regina has been staunchly avoiding Robin since they brought him back. From what Emma can tell, he's fallen back in love with his wife in the month or so that he's been gone. That, or he's putting on a good show of it. Every time he touches Marian unconsciously, Regina flinches. Emma wants to punch him. But then she remembers, some of this is technically her fault, and she clenches her fists together until she's left with fingernail imprints on the insides of her palms.

Regina is in the middle of saying something when everything in the room goes still. Like the air stops moving, and everything is in slow motion. Emma only has a moment to look up at Regina, then over to Lily before everything goes black.

…

…

Emma wakes up in chains. But she notices the dress first.

Blearily, she opens her eyes and sees what she is wearing, trying to sit up, she notices the shackles around her wrists. She can smell saltwater—near the ocean then. The floor is hard and concrete, the room cold. Nothing around her sounds like Storybrooke.

Emma screams.

…

…

Henry finds her. Emma doesn't know if it's days or hours later, only that she has been asleep and woken up at least three times. And she hasn't eaten. She's been craving Regina's lasagna.

He comes bursting into the room, trying to tell her that he's her son, and Emma just shushes him. “Hey kid,” she says with a tired grin, “I knew you would find me. Wanna help me get out of this?” she holds up her shackled arms. Henry, looking relieved jumps to free her, chattering away about how Regina didn't recognize him, and they need to get to her right now. Emma feels immense relief at knowing that Regina is okay. Finding out that her mother is evil in this universe is another twist in her gut.

When Hook comes up behind him, Emma is relieved and happy to see him as well. A familiar face, the man she's supposed to be falling in love with. There is no recognition in his face for her, but Emma just grins at him and takes the sword she's offered. Flirting and sauntering past him. She's giddy from finally being freed, ready to punch some people and break yet another curse. This is a problem that she can solve. She's not exactly sure how but she knows what she needs to do. Help Regina, help everyone.

“I need new clothes,” she announces. “Now.”

…

…

She fights a dragon that could be Lily, or could be Maleficent, or could be just a dragon. Hook cowers. Emma brandishes a cannon and yells manically. She thinks maybe there is something deeply wrong with her. She's been cursed too. Or there is so much pent up shit inside of her, that she's finally snapped. Or maybe she's just deliriously happy to be out of chains. She is able to fight a dragon. When she looks back, she sees the dragon rise up out of the water and feels relieved that she didn't kill it.

…

…

Hook, who doesn't recognize her, who is meek and clumsy, grabs hold of a sword and tells a pair of strangers to make a run for it. It's in that moment that Emma feels more fond of him than she has ever been before. But it's not Hook. Not really. It's a cursed version. An implanted personality. Some other version of him is here in front of her now. The version he could have been maybe, a long time ago. A man who doesn't know how to fight, but will pick up a sword anyway and stand and help two people who say that they know him.

Emma feels what might be love, and then a sword goes through him.

She watches him collapse and cries. Because it's her fault. It's her fault that he picked up a sword and died. He did it for her. She is the savior and she is supposed to protect everyone, and her boyfriend who doesn't even recognize her just died for her.

Henry pulls her away, and she lets him. Looking back for a moment longer before turning and running with her son's hand held tightly in her own.

…

…

When Regina looks at her, not a trace of recognition in her eyes, just drones, “You must be his other mother,” that's when Emma really cries. She blames it on just watching Hook die, says as much to the woman before her. She holds her breath tightly inside of her and tells this Regina that she has to stop Robin's wedding to Marian. Then everything will go back to normal. Regina will know who she is, Henry will be safe. Her mother won't be evil and Hook won't have gotten himself killed for her.

Everything will be how it should be. Regina will have the happy ending that Emma promised her. She can fix this.

“My happy ending isn't a man,” Regina says with a dry laugh. Emma knows that. Regina's happy ending is Henry. It's being at peace; being free to do whatever she wants. But, she'd wanted Robin as part of it. She's said as such a million times.

“I know,” Emma tells her. This woman who looks at her with an openness that Regina never has. Emma can't meet her eyes. She just pleads with her, and Regina softens.

It's disconcerting.

Emma can't worry about the way her insides go prickly at watching Regina—who doesn't recognize her—walk up to the church steps. Emma bristles inside herself and paces, waiting for her to walk in and kiss him so this nightmare can be over and done with. So Regina can snap at her and call her 'Miss Swan' and muss with Henry's hair.

But then that damned Author shows up.

Emma fights him, but chance, false bravado, and luck aside, she's actually pretty shitty at sword fighting. There is no way she is going to let him get anywhere near Henry though, so she flings herself about wildly and yells at Regina to hurry up.

She falls, and her heart jumps to her throat when a sword comes near Henry. This cannot happen. She can't watch another person die today. Not Henry. They can have Hook, but not Henry.

Emma screams, scrambling to get to him, but she's hurt and too far away.

Then Regina is somehow there. Like always, Regina saves them.

Then Emma registers how she saved Henry and she screams again.

Emma can't hear a thing apart from the blood rushing in her ears. She feels a blind sort of panic as she runs over to Regina. She can't die. Not today. Not when—she cannot die. Emma yells as much at her, as if it would help.

She and Henry are scrambling beside her, and Regina is panting with pain and looking around wildly, as if unable to believe what has happened to her. People come running out of the church, and Emma sees Robin try to push his way in to help and Emma shoves him away. Grabbing a sword and ready to cut herself as Henry yells he needs blood for ink. Something about him being the new Author? Emma can't listen, just cannot watch Regina die. But Henry takes Regina's blood and writes in the book and nothing happens. Regina is still bleeding, her breath getting shallower and shallower. And Henry is crying with frustration and writing again.

Emma screams. She presses her hands against Regina's wound and screams. She tries to remember everything that Regina has told her about healing magic. Because this is not going to happen. Regina is not going to die and leave her all alone. Henry needs her. Emma needs her. She's not Henry's mom. Not in the way Regina is. They need her.

Emma screams and screams and screams until her voice is hoarse and she slumps over with exhaustion.

…

…

When she comes to this time, she isn't alone, and she isn't shackled.

She isn't home either.

Emma sits bolt upright at the sight of Regina, lying unconscious in a straw bed across from her, and regrets it immediately. She groans, her stomach lurching as she runs outside and vomits into the grass.

Still in the Enchanted Forest then.

Henry comes running out after her, she hadn't noticed him on the other side of the little cottage. “Ma! Are you okay?” he asks, worried.

Emma gasps, still gagging a little from the too sudden movement, and plops herself down, leaning back against the cottage wall. “Regina?” she asks.

“You healed her,” Henry says, sounding proud. “Well... kinda. She's better. She stopped bleeding. But she's still hurt. Marian gave her stitches. And she put this mossy looking stuff on the cut.” Henry grimaces. “She says it was really deep, but you fixed it. She'll be okay. Not right away though.”

“So, I take it she and Robin didn't kiss?” Emma asks.

“No.” Henry frowns. “I don't... I mean, I know they’re soulmates but... he and Marian seem...” Henry shrugs. “I don't know if it would have worked or not. My writing didn't.”

“I don't know much about this author nonsense, but if it's anything like being the savior, you don't want it anyway.” Emma says, eyes closed. The healing took a lot more out of her than she thought. Regina must have been very close to death. Emma really doesn't want to think about that.

“But we're stuck here then,” he says glumly. “And Mom doesn't know us.”

“But she's gonna be okay.” Emma says firmly. Nothing else is acceptable. “And then we'll figure out a plan. We always do. Till then... guess I'll learn to ride a horse.”

Henry gives her a look.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.”

Henry laughs. The sound fills Emma up. Henry is okay. And Regina will be okay. They're all okay.

…

…

They are _not_ okay.

Emma misses indoor plumbing. She wants better coffee. If she has to sleep on a crappy straw bed for one more night she is going to scream. And, turns out, horses hate her.

She hates them right back.

Not to mention, cottages aren't exactly spacious. Especially when they already have a gang of Merry Men living inside of them. Emma isn't sure what Regina thinks about being nursed back to health by the woman who married the man she was told is her soulmate, a boy who claims to be her son, and a woman to claims to be her... son's other mother.

When she comes to on the second day, it's the first time she has any sort of clarity. Emma is sitting beside her, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead and feeling useless. She's still too drained to try healing Regina again. Everyone is afraid she'll end up killing herself rather than helping Regina much at all. It's Regina who would be able to explain to Emma how she should do it. But this Regina doesn't have any magic.

She opens her eyes and stares at Emma in confusion. For one terrible, perfect second, Emma thinks that she recognizes her; then her eyes knot together and she frowns, pulling away from Emma and wincing at the movement to her side.

“What happened?” she croaks out.

“You saved Henry,” Emma says with a smile. Because it's the first thing her Regina would want to know.

Some things, it would seem, remain the same. Regina smiles, looking somewhat relieved, and tries to sit up further. “Good.”

“You're going to be okay,” Emma tells her quickly, not knowing what else to say to her. It's the first time that she has really been alone with Regina since the two of them left for New York. Which feels like a lifetime ago now.

It was.

This woman looks like Regina, parts of her sound like Regina, but she doesn't glare at Emma or roll her eyes nearly enough for it to be Regina. Emma never thought that she would miss being glared at or called an idiot.

Regina winces again, and Emma moves to help her sit up, touching her cautiously. Regina studies her face for a moment, then looks down to where Emma's hands are still holding onto her arm. Emma pulls them away as if she's been scalded.

“Are you...” Regina stops, coughing. Emma jumps up to get her a glass of water. Regina accepts it readily, chugging the entire contents in one go. It's the most undignified thing Emma has ever seen her do, and she laughs out loud. Regina knots her eyebrows together in confusion. “Does he get his poor manners from you?” she asks, her tone reminiscent of the Regina that Emma is familiar with.

Emma frowns, until she realizes that Regina is talking about Henry. “Oh...” she laughs, “well, you usually say so.”

Regina stares at her again, and Emma fights the urge to fidget with her clothes under her gaze. “So...” she begins, “I'm confused. You both said that I was to marry this... Robin Hood person. And yet, the two of us,” she waves her hand back and forth between them, “have a son together. And you mentioned a man that you loved who had died,” she lets out a breath, wincing and holding her side. “Have we broken up?” she asks.

“What?”

Regina looks exasperated. “We married each other and raised a son? Yes?”

“No!” Emma yelps. Regina only grows more confused. “I—we—no.” Emma sputters. “We were never married.” She says the word in nearly a whisper, and she doesn't know why. The very idea of Regina as her wife is just.... Emma chokes out a shaky laugh. It's insane. “We weren't... we're friends.” Emma insists.

“We decided to raise a son together as friends?”

“No, we didn't—” Emma sighs, it's hard enough to explain if you already know the whole story; nothing she says is going to make any sense. “You raised him,” she explains. “I—I gave birth to him. I was too young to... I couldn't...” Regina waits far too patiently for her to finish. Emma wants Regina to snap at her and tell her to hurry up. “I gave him up. You raised him. It's a really long and complicated story. And you look like you're about to pass out again.” Regina looks about a half second away from conking out, but she is trying to fight it. “I'll explain it later.” Emma promises. “Get some rest.”

“Later,” Regina agrees, and then she's out.

“Married,” Emma mumbles under her breath. “Fucking hell.”

…

…

Henry won't stop trying to write them home. He's written things out a thousand different ways by the end of the first week. By the second, he has nearly filled up half of the book. In between trying to write them home, he talks to Regina. He tells her everything about their lives together, hoping that some memory will stick. Each time she shakes her head, mumbling an apology, his face falls just a little bit more. Emma understands how he feels; it's shockingly horrible not to have Regina remember her. It's worse ever since Regina said the word 'married' out loud in reference to the two of them. Since she thought that the two of them were…

Emma can't stop thinking about it.

It's just... it's absurd, but, it won't go away. Emma can't help but remember every weird little look Regina has given her over the past year or so. Every small touch: a hand on a shoulder here, an awkward pat on the leg there. Regina's arms wrapped tight around her, humming Spanish into her ear as she broke down in the middle of the road. Emma wishes that Lily were here. She would demand to know the translation of what Regina said. Because, the look on her face afterwards...

It's absurd.

And _yet_ …

It's not that Emma doesn't find Regina attractive. She isn't blind. But Regina is... well, Regina. She's bossy. And controlling. And rude and mean. And she thinks that Emma is an idiot! And, there is the whole thing where she was evil for a while. She is the reason that Emma grew up the way she did.

But, she is also the reason that Emma has Henry again. And she is part of the reason that Emma's relationship with her parents has gotten better. And she's... well, Regina.

Emma helps Regina change the bandage on her side; helps her get into a new shirt; helps her bathe; and she can't stop blushing.

It’s embarrassing, Emma thinks, to feel this kind of tumultuous adolescent attraction when there are so many other more pressing concerns. Regina's wound for one; it's looking better, but they're still basically in friggin' medieval times. There isn't much real medicine to speak of. No sterilized tools. No hospitals. Regina is a goddamn outlaw in this universe; they can't take her to whatever excuse the Enchanted Forest has for a doctor. And every time Emma tries to heal the wound again, she nearly passes out. Not to mention Henry. Or, the fact that this Regina doesn't even remember her. Isn't even technically the one that Emma... Besides which, Regina is supposed to be her friend, and that is such a tender, rare thing in Emma’s life that she doesn’t want to do anything to ruin it.

So, she keeps her eyes trained on Regina's wound and nothing else. She learns about healing from Marian. She learns a little bit of archery from Robin—which feels weird on a million levels. But, when he's not trying to assuage his guilt over loving and stringing along two different women, the guy's not half bad. Emma likes the Merry Men, and Henry adores them. And Emma likes Marian a lot now that she's been able to spend more than five minutes with her that don't involve trying to flee for their lives.

Regina and Marian get along famously. They are almost constantly together. Emma keeps her mouth shut about that one. Her eyes remain forward and her mouth stays shut.

Henry keeps asking if there is something wrong with her.

…

…

Sometime in the middle of the third week, Snow's men find them. Regina is finally healed enough that she can get out of her bed and sit on a chair outside. Her skin looks far too sallow and pale in the sunlight, and Emma keeps trying to will the vitamin D into her skin faster. Regina has told her twice in the last hour that she, 'doesn't want any milk, gods do you ever listen to me in this other universe?' Henry can't stop laughing. Emma can't stop grinning like an idiot. Regina looks confused, but happy. It's the most relaxed and normal Emma has felt since this whole mess started.

And that's when Snow's men show up.

Little John comes barreling into the clearing on his horse, yelling for Marian to hide everyone. Emma and Henry scramble to get Regina, and together, they practically carry her into the house. Moving her faster than they should with her still healing injuries. Marian opens up a trap door in the cottage floor, and the three of them cram themselves into it, Regina desperately trying not to cry out in pain.

Emma holds Regina flush against her, trying to give her as much space on her other side as possible so her wound isn't pressing against anything. Henry tries to make himself as small as possible beside Emma. It would help matters if he were still the tiny ten year old Emma had met, not a gangly, ever expanding fourteen.

Emma can hear Marian moving the kitchen table back over the trapdoor, then someone is banging on the front door to the cottage. Their voices are muffled, but Emma can partly make out Marian's voice. She doesn't sound flustered or nervous at all. Emma smiles. The woman is a pro.

It still feels like ages before the trap door finally opens. It's pitch black, the only sound coming from their shaky, unsteady breathing. Regina shifts, halfway on Emma's lap and hisses in pain, trying to cover it up. Emma rubs her thumb gently along Regina's arm; the only comfort she can offer right now. Henry leans his head against Emma's shoulder awkwardly, reaching across her and slipping his hand into Regina's free one. She hesitates before taking it, but Emma feels her squeeze his hand in reassurance a moment later.

Finally, the voices peter off, and the table above them moves. Emma braces herself, trying to get in front of Henry and Regina just in case it's not Marian.

Marian grins down at the three of them. “Would you like some lemonade?”

Emma huffs, “I hate you.”

Marian laughs out loud as she helps Regina up out of the ground. Emma and Henry crawl out behind her. Emma immediately moves to try and heal Regina again, but Regina stops her.

“You knocked yourself out for two hours the last time and all it did was turn part of my skin purple. Clearly, you don't know what you're doing.”

“Hey!” Emma protests, “you're alive. I kept you alive. That's not nothing.”

Regina's face softens. “No,” she says quietly, not quite meeting Emma's eyes. “It's not. But I'm alright now.”

“But—”

“I am.” Regina insists. “It hurts, but it's nearly healed. It's just sore. I don't need you to knock yourself out for a little soreness.”

“But—”

“Thank you for offering, but no.” She says it in such a way that really leaves no room for arguments. Queenly. Something from another life. Marian gives Emma a look, one she's been giving her a lot of lately. Emma just huffs and stalks out of the cottage, plopping down onto the ground beside Little John.

“She wouldn't let you heal her?” he asks, not bothering to look over at Emma. It's an argument that all of the Merry Men have become familiar with in the last few weeks.

“Nope.” She is aware that she is close to what could be considered as pouting. She finds that she doesn't care overmuch. Little John won't tell.

…

…

They don't do it often, because Regina's face is still hanging up on wanted posters across the land, and Emma is pretty sure that Snow's men are on the lookout for her as well; but, sometimes, they go for walks together. It's good for Regina, to help her heal. To ease her back into more strenuous movement. And, it's... nice. Emma still doesn't know jack about this world when it comes right down to it, and this version of Regina delights in knowing more than Emma just as much as the other version did.

She snaps at Emma less. She's softer somehow in this world. Her edges aren't as hard, haven't needed to be. The Regina that Emma knows looms, she challenges everyone around her constantly. Her Regina stands with her head held high as though she is surrounded by enemies at all times. She remains larger than life and unquestioned by force of habit. But this Regina holds her head up in a different way; defiant, proud, stubborn, ready to fight, but, there is a hopeful softness to her. She has lived a hard life, but she has been free. She was never forced into royalty, false motherhood, or a queenship.

Emma thinks that not growing up into royalty is the thing that is the most different about her. Regina was trained to be dignified and lady-like from a young age. Cora hanging over everything she did. This girl never knew her mother. This Regina was abandoned. Just like Emma.

Emma would never wish that on anyone, she, better than most, knows how it feels. But, Regina without her mother's influence doesn't walk around with a constant weight on her shoulders.

Emma feels terrible that she never noticed it before. Or, if she did, she was never quite able to pick out its origin. Sometimes, parents can do more damage than no parents at all.

They talk about anything and everything on their walks. Henry leaves them to ride around with the Merry men, more often than not. Declaring them boring. Emma thinks he may have accepted that they aren't going home. It's been over a month. Surely, something would have worked by now if it was going to in his mind. Emma says as much to Regina, gritting her teeth as she nearly trips over a loose stone in the path.

“And you?” Regina asks, holding out her good arm and keeping Emma upright. That's another new thing. The touching thing. The Regina that Emma knew was very careful about her touches. Only with Henry did she ever seem to offer up affection with any sort of ease. And that took a long time to come by. This Regina thinks nothing of reaching out and holding onto Emma. In fact, she does it often.

“Me what?”

Regina smiles at her, fond and a little amused. “Do you still think that you'll find a way back to this land you think you're from?”

“Still don't believe us?” Emma asks, dodging the question.

Regina's smile dips slightly into a frown. “The things that you tell me are real seem impossible,” she says carefully, looking off at the path ahead of them. Emma nods as they walk on; she gets that. When Henry was trying to convince her that fairytales were real, and her parents were one of them come to life, Emma hadn't believed either. “But...” Regina trails off, shaking her head as if to rid herself of whatever it was she had been about to say. Instead, she smiles at Emma, open and lovely and Emma has to remember that this is her friend Regina. “We should go this way,” she points, “there's a beautiful path down to a lake.”

“Okay,” Emma says, following her and not blushing when Regina seems to purposefully brush their hands together.

…

…

She's sitting in Marian and Robin's cottage, trying to mend a tear in her shirt with no success. (She failed Home Economics in middle school.) There are about seven pinpricks bleeding on her right hand alone. Regina is doing a terrible job of hiding her laughter from over by the stove. She told Marian that she would watch the pie she had been baking so that the other woman could go meet Robin for lunch. Henry comes flying into the kitchen, hair full of twigs and a grin on his face.

“I hit the target with an arrow,” he announces proudly. He has been working with Little John for the last week, trying to hit a faraway target along with the rest of the Merry Men.

“Awesome,” Emma grunts, pricking herself again and sticking her finger into her mouth with a whine. “I'm bleeding to death,” she says, muffled.

Regina laughs at Emma again, then steps over and musses Henry's hair, picking out a few twigs. She looks at him like she always used to these days—like she remembers him. She turns her head and looks over at Emma, a smile on her face that feels like a punch to the gut when Emma looks up at her. She is looking at Emma like... like she is full of love. It's the only way Emma knows to describe it. It's gone in a flash, and Emma knows she must have imagined it. She is just projecting her own shit onto Regina. Hoping for things that aren't there. Can't be there. This woman has only known her for a couple of months, and the real Regina... Emma sucks on her finger harder. She is imagining things.

Regina turns back to Henry, pulls out another twig from his hair, says, “Congratulations,” then kisses him on the forehead.

Then everything goes black.

…

…

Emma wakes up halfway on her bed in the Charming's loft, and halfway on the floor; Hook beside her. It's so jarring that she just stares at him, mouth agape, and says, “You're dead.” Her body is still painfully contorted, and she twists, falling down onto the floor, basically on top of Hook. “I watched you die,” she says in awe. Because she can feel him underneath her. He is solid and alive and there isn't any blood spilling out of any part of him. But, he's been dead for almost two months.

He gives her a cocky sideways grin and grabs at her hips with his hand. “Not anymore love,” he says, leaning up for a kiss. Emma pulls herself back.

“You... how did this happen? How are we back? I was... Regina and I were,” she snaps further back from him. “Henry came in and...” realization dawns and Emma lets out a shaky little laugh. “She kissed him. She believed him—or loved him anyway—and she kissed him.” Emma grins, scrambling up off the floor. “Regina did it! True loves kiss.”

Hook shrugs and lazily follows her up, reaching for her hips again. Emma finds herself bracing for his touch and that's when she knows. She can't do this anymore. Hook was... easy. It was easy for her to be with him. Her parents nodded and accepted him into their little unit before Emma could even blink. Her parents approval meant something, and... he kept telling her that he was in love with her. It was simple. It required nothing but saying okay and letting someone love her.

But now... now, his hand roams over her body, and he kisses her neck, and she keeps seeing Regina in Marian's kitchen; the look she gave Emma. The way Emma's stomach flips when Regina only touches her arm in passing. She doesn't feel an ounce of that now with Hook. She doesn't think she ever has.

Emma gently pushes him away from her. “I can't do this anymore,” she says, low and apologetic.

…

…

It's when she's in Regina's driveway, watching her standing in the doorstep, talking to Robin when Emma admits to herself that what she feels for Regina isn't friendship. Isn't even remotely. She doesn't know how the hell she didn't figure it out before, but nothing that they have together would be considered a normal friendship. Emma figures it's not totally her fault that she didn't realize it until now; Lily was always both friend and girlfriend, the boundaries blurry; Neal was the person she had put all her love and trust on, only to have it blow up spectacularly in her face; and her only other real friend turned out to be her mother. All Emma has to compare how she feels about Regina is with Ruby's easy, casual friendship, and Mulan's gruff, begrudged loyalty.

Emma is aware of Ruby's attractiveness, she can appreciate it, but she doesn't look at Ruby and wonder what it would feel like to kiss her. (Except for the once, way back when Henry first brought her to Storybrooke.) And Mulan is beautiful, but Emma has no desire to kiss her either.

 _Shit_.

Somewhere along the way, without Emma noticing, Regina went from being someone who she fought with constantly, to someone she could care about. Someone whose wry laugh and rare, fond looks makes Emma's chest warm and tight. Someone whose sharp wit, battle-ready smirk, and flashing eyes suggest a shiver low down in the pit of her stomach. This feels to Emma like some type of weakness, a vulnerable spot in her carefully tended defenses. Emma has slept with a few people over the years, but she hasn’t cared about very many of them. Not since Neal. Since Lily. She isn't exactly sure that she trusts herself to feel this way—isn’t even sure that she knows how to do it properly.

Her level of attachment to Regina extends beyond Henry, has for a while. And Regina is now standing a few feet ahead of her, talking to the man who is destined to be her soulmate. Emma tries to back away, Regina wouldn't just be standing there calmly having a conversation with Robin if Henry wasn't alright. They're both fine, Emma doesn't need to be here right now. She really, _really_ doesn't need to watch Regina's reunion with Robin.

Because the world apparently hates her, Emma trips. She catches herself before slamming into the pavement, but she makes enough noise for Regina and Robin to look over. Something in Regina's face goes hard at the sight of her. Closed off and angry and Emma freezes on the spot. It's a look that she hasn't had directed her way in a long time, and she doesn't know what she's done to deserve it.

Robin moves closer to Regina, murmurs something, then presses a kiss to her cheek before walking down the driveway. He passes Emma, nods to her, and leaves without another word. Emma looks up towards Regina in confusion. “Is...” she steps closer towards the house, “are you and Henry okay? Is Zelena... is she still here?”

“Yes,” Regina says, arms crossing in front of herself. “She's here, we're all fine.”

Emma nods. “Good. I was—good.”

“Is your pirate alive?” Regina bites. Then her face twists and softens as she realizes how harsh her words came across.

“Yeah, Hook's okay.” Emma continues moving slowly closer to the front steps. “Mad at me right now though. Probably won't talk to me for a while. My dad's gonna be so pissed he lost his buddy.”

Regina's eyes snap up to Emma. “What?”

“I... well, we broke up. I broke—we're not,” Emma sighs. “I don't care about him the way he cares about me. It wasn't fair to...” Emma shrugs, reaching the front steps and coming to a halt in front of Regina. “I tried,” she admits. She had. She had wanted to care for Hook. It would have been simple. “My parents liked him.”

“That's an idiotic reason to strike up a relationship,” Regina snaps, her eyes rolling.

Emma grins. “I missed that.”

“What?”

“You calling me an idiot. Weird right? But the other you... in that... do you remember...”

“—Yes.” Regina cuts her off. Refuses to look at her.

Emma's grin widens anyway. “Well, you were a lot nicer to me there. Threw me off a little.” She's joking, but Regina seems to close herself off to Emma in that moment. Emma curses internally. “I wasn't... I missed it,” she insists. “Bickering with you is kinda fun now. It's like our thing.” Regina still doesn't say a word. “Is... is your side okay?” Emma asks, moving to check on it like she has a hundred times before now. This time though, instead of sighing and allowing Emma to look at it for a moment with a placating grin, Regina pulls away from her touch sharply.

“I'm fine.”

“You broke the curse.” Emma says, trying to fix whatever is happening between them right now. “You kissed Henry's forehead,” she beams at Regina. “You didn't remember being his mom but you loved him anyway.”

Regina presses herself back against the door, almost as if she is trying to distance herself from Emma as much as possible. Emma frowns. “Did you need something else?” Regina asks in a clipped voice.

“I—huh?”

“Did you need something else?” Regina snaps. “Apart from finding out whether or not our son is alive? Is there some new crisis you need my help with? Or could I perhaps have a night to myself without one of you Charmings interfering?”

Her words carry so much bite in them that Emma steps backwards unconsciously. Regina has been angry with her many, many times, but it hasn't felt like this in... almost two years. Not since Cora was around.

Emma blinks. “I just...”

“Goodnight Miss Swan,” Regina says without looking at her.

Then, the door shuts in Emma's face, and she's left alone, as sudden as submersion in cold water.

…

…

It's a week later when Emma finally realizes that Robin stayed with his wife. Not out of a sense of obligation or honor, or duty, but because he loves her. That she finds this out from Leroy of all people makes her want to punch something. She yells at her mother for not telling her sooner.

“Emma, Gold was dying. The Dark One's powers were flinging around waiting to corrupt someone. Your brother isn't happy about being done with nursing and he's thrown more food at my head in the last few days than we have in this apartment. I've been a little preoccupied.”

Emma sighs, she knows all this, she isn't actually mad at her mother. Not really. Not about this. “Sorry,” she says.

Snow smiles at her tentatively, rocking the baby on her shoulder and trying to get him to go down for his nap. “Are you alright?” Snow asks. “I know... I'm sorry that I tried to have you and Henry killed. Back in... I'm sorry.”

“S'okay,” Emma makes a face at her brother and he giggles, kicking his legs out and reaching for her. Wide awake.

“Emma,” Snow groans. “Don't encourage him.”

“Leonardo isn't tired though,” Emma holds out her finger and he yanks on it, trying to stick it in his mouth. Snow gives up and sits down on the couch beside Emma, letting the baby crawl over to her.

“Why do you call him that?” she asks as he grabs hold of Emma's lips and starts inspecting them.

Emma shrugs, “Cause it sounds funny?”

Snow looks at her intently. “No,” she says. “I've never heard you call him by name. Not once. You say 'the baby' or 'buddy' or make up some other name. Does it...” her eyes widen, and she looks at Emma in horror. “Does it bother you that we named him after Neal?” she asks. Emma tries to meld into the couch, but her brother yanks on her hair, as if he knows what she is doing. Emma yelps. Traitor. Snow immediately reaches over and pries his fingers loose. “Don't pull your sister's hair,” she chastises. Neal pouts, and sticks the hair in his mouth instead. Emma grimaces, but lets him. “Emma,” Snow prods, “does it?”

“I mean... it's weird,” Emma mumbles. “There was a lot of... he was my ex-boyfriend. He got me sent to jail. It's weird to have my brother be named after him, yeah.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

Emma shrugs.

“Emma,” Snow moves closer, wrapping one arm around Emma's shoulder and pulling her into a hug. “You have to tell me something like that, I can't read your mind. I didn't...” she sighs, “I should have known. I was trying to honor him. I was trying to...”

“I know, that's why I didn't say anything.”

“Well, you have to.” Snow sits up, but keeps an arm around Emma. “I know I'm not great at this. It's... our situation is incredibly unique, but... you've got to meet me halfway. If you just ignore things until it drives you crazy all we're ever going to do is fight. And I don't want that. Please tell me things that bother you. I can't fix it if I don't know,” she lets out a self deprecating laugh. “I know that I can be a little oblivious.”

Emma bites at her bottom lip, but her mother catches it. She smacks her arm lightly.

“A _lot_ oblivious,” she amends. “I grew up incredibly sheltered. I had a very black and white view of the world. It's... taken me a very long time to let some of that go. Clearly, I still am. But, I am trying Emma. I can't do more than that if you shut me out or ignore things that bother you. Or run away.”

“I—” Emma swallows. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Emma sucks in a breath, then says, “I hate that the baby's name is Neal. And I know that he's not, but he still feels like a replacement for me sometimes. And, you're kind of a hypocrite about the whole, heroes don't do this or that thing. You and David. And, I'm still a little mad about Lily, but I know how sorry you are so I'm trying not to be.”

Snow blanches, but swallows and nods, taking it all in. “Anything else?” she asks, voice pinched.

“Not right now. Unless you're going to try and talk me into taking Hook back again.”

“I just want you to be—” Snow stops, bites her bottom lip and smiles. “I just want you to be happy. If he wasn't making you happy, then that's alright. I won't ask again.”

“Thanks.”

“It's just... Emma, you don't seem happy.”

Emma bounces her brother up and down gently on her knees. She shrugs. “I'm kinda not,” she admits. “But it's not about Hook.”

Snow looks like she is going to say something else, but stops herself. She watches her children interact quietly for a moment. “We can call him Leo,” she offers. “I know a few people who go by their middle name.”

“Leonardo did you hear that?” Emma asks.

“You know it's Leopold right? After my father.”

“I know.” Emma shrugs, “I think that kinda bothers Regina though. Plus, Leonardo sounds way cooler than Leopold. Leopold sounds like a scrawny white kid who gets beat up on the playground.”

Snow slaps her arm.

“Did you see that Leonardo? Mom hit me!”

“Emma!”

“You did!”

They're quiet for a few moments, the baby starting to finally nod off against Emma's shoulder. Then Snow hums, “I didn't think about how that might bother Regina,” she rubs at the baby's back slowly, leaning against Emma's side. “I didn't realize that Neal bothered you, or that Leopold bothered her,” she sighs. “I fucked that up pretty royally huh?”

Emma can't remember ever hearing her mother say 'fuck' before. She grins at her. “You did.”

Snow laughs, then looks like she might cry. “I'm sorry. I should have. I'll apologize to her too.”

“It's okay,” Emma says, because she hates to see her mother upset.

“It's not,” Snow smiles softly at Emma, then kisses her cheek. “But thank you for saying so. I need to pay closer attention.” The baby falls asleep, and Snow looks close to it herself. Emma is seriously considering a nap as well. “He's young enough,” Snow mumbles, “we can change it. As long as Regina doesn't mind plain old Leo, I like it. If not, we'll think of something else. Something new.”

“Ferdinand,” Emma declares.

Snow laughs until she cries, and Emma feels a small bit of weight lift off her shoulders.

…

…

Regina avoids her. Emma tries to catch her when they switch off nights with Henry, but she always manages to dodge Emma. Henry seems anxious about it, asking Emma what's wrong. Why they aren't getting along anymore. Emma has no answers for him.

Regina avoids everyone apart from Henry, Zelena, Maleficent, and, weirdly, Marian. Emma pieces together bits of things from what Henry tells her. Regina and Marian had gotten along wonderfully back in the Enchanted Forest, and, apparently, apart from initial awkwardness, they remain friendly. From Henry, Emma gleans that Regina and Robin mutually decided to maintain a friendship and nothing more. He shrugs when Emma presses for more details, not knowing anything more.

He does tell her that Regina and Zelena have been getting along much better. There have been significantly fewer fireballs thrown, and the barbs between the sisters have lessened to meaningless remarks. A habit rather than a desire to hurt.

Emma has seen the two of them walking along main street once or twice. The dwarves called the fire department. Emma had to talk them out of trying to blast Zelena with the fire hose just for the hell of it.

Since Regina is avoiding her, and everyone else keeps bringing up Hook and their time in the latest curse, Emma avoids everyone as well. Apart from Lily.

The two of them get coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches from Granny's and go for a hike. They fill in each other on the parts of their lives that they missed, and bond over suddenly having parents practically the same age. It becomes a daily ritual. Lily takes a waitress job at The Pridelands, a slightly more upscale restaurant than Granny's diner. They both have lunch breaks at the same time, and they take their food and spend them together.

In some ways, it feels like they never spent all those years apart. They are at ease with each other in a way that Emma hasn't felt in a long time. In others, everything is different.

Emma briefly considers kissing Lily once. Just to see. But then Lily balances a spoon on her nose, before blowing it off with a small puff of fire—a trick her mother taught her—and laughs, looking happier than she's seemed since they were fifteen. And Emma knows she loves Lily then, but she also knows that she isn't in love with her.

“I'm glad we're friends again,” she says instead.

Lily turns, sly smirk back on her face, making her look exactly the same as she did when they were teenagers. “Me too Swan. No one else's lives are this crazy. We'd both be going insane without each other to talk to.”

“Yeah,” Emma bites into her grilled cheese. It's gone cold.

“So, when are you gonna fess up about being head over heels for my mother's best friend?” Lily taunts.

“What!?”

“Jesus, Em. You look like a kicked puppy whenever she ignores you. Which, is kind of a lot nowadays. What'd you do?”

“I didn't do anything!” Emma yells. “Wait... you didn't... you haven't said anything to your mom about...”

“Fuck no.”

Emma lets out a breath of relief. Then, bites at her bottom lip, sandwich abandoned. “What... well, do you remember the day where I, um, kinda tried to shoot you?”

“No, doesn't ring a bell.” Lily says dryly. Emma smacks her. “Yeah, what about it?” Lily asks.

“You said... well I wasn't, what was Regina saying to me in Spanish?”

“Oh,” Lily goes quiet, stops fooling around and looks at Emma seriously. “It was a while ago, it's not like I remember it word for word.”

“That's alright.”

Lily shifts, picking apart the remains of her sandwich and throwing bits of the bread in the lake. Ducks around swarm it. “Basically, she was saying, 'it's alright' over and over. 'You're okay', stuff like that.”

“I got that part,” Emma says, irritated. “What else? That day you acted like she said something... what else did she say?”

“Really not much.”

“Lily.”

“She kept calling you different terms of endearment that just made me think your relationship was more than friendship. 'I've got you', 'it's okay', 'darling', just stuff like that. There wasn't one big thing that she said to make me think it.” Lily shrugs. “Just, the way she held you, and the way you let her, and the way she spoke to you made me think that you guys were... you know.”

“Yeah,” Emma croaks. “No. I mean, I didn't know. Not till we got stuck in the Enchanted Forest. I thought that I just thought about her all the time because that's what it felt like to have a real friend.”

“Generally, I think that you aren't supposed to want to fuck your friends,” Lily laughs. “Well, you and I have at least moved past that stage.”

Emma grins, she hadn't wanted to be the one to say it, but it felt like it needed to be said out loud. She bumps her shoulder against Lily's. “Glad we've matured.”

Lily turns her hand over, palm up, and Emma locks their hands together. “What am I gonna do?” she asks.

“Pine like a teenager till you get over her?”

Emma snorts. “Great.”

…

…

“Oh, look who it is,” Zelena's teasing voice calls out.

Emma whips around on the sidewalk, hand poised on Granny's door handle. Zelena walks towards her purposefully, Henry beside her, and Regina hanging back. Emma knows from Henry that Zelena has further mellowed out these last few weeks or so, but she bristles, preparing herself for an attack all the same.

Zelena turns her head, smirking at Regina. “It's Emma,” she announces.

“Yes dear, I have perfect eyesight,” Regina says dryly. “Hello,” she offers to Emma. It's the most she's gotten out of Regina in nearly two weeks. Emma squeaks out a small, “Hi,” in response, feeling small.

“Hey Ma, want to come get lunch with us?” Henry asks, looking between all three women. Regina and Emma both look like they might throw up; Zelena nearly glows with manic excitement.

“Oh yes, lovely,” Zelena says, walking over to Emma and looping an arm through hers. Emma stiffens. “Shall we?”

Emma allows herself to be led inside by Zelena. The woman may be a complete pain in the ass, but despite everything that she has done, Emma knows that her sister is important to Regina. Even if Regina herself doesn't like her overmuch most days. Seeing Emma calmly with her will also lessen the townsfolk from getting ideas about burning down Regina's home with Zelena or—god forbid—Henry or Regina inside.

The four of them slip into a booth near the back; Zelena sliding herself in beside Emma before she can shuffle over to try and be next to Henry. Regina ends up directly across from Emma, and she still won't look her in the eye. Emma can't fathom what she has done, apart from maybe being too obvious in her affections. Regina, not returning them, is putting distance up between them. Uncomfortable with how Emma feels. Emma slinks down into her seat, picking at the coffee creamers with a straw.

Henry and Zelena make up most of the conversation. Henry, sincerely trying to engage both his mothers, gets a response—if a weak one—out of them both. Zelena brings up every bit of tension hanging in the air with glee.

“We haven't seen you around much lately Emma,” she says once their food has arrived. Emma watches her dip her french fries in vinegar. “You used to practically live there. You were comfortable enough to be in quite the state of undress around my sister.”

Regina's ears turn pink and Emma tries to meld into the plastic booth. Henry laughs.

“Been busy,” Emma mumbles.

“With Lily?” Zelena asks pointedly.

“Huh?” Emma asks. Regina's eyes flare and she kicks Emma underneath the table. “Ow!”

Regina looks horrified. “That was intended for my dear big sister,” she snaps, venomously at Zelena.

“If the two of you want to play footsie you don't have to excuse it away love,” Zelena says idly, sharing a french fry with Henry. “I don't judge.”

“I should get back to the station,” Emma says, shoving Zelena out of the booth unceremoniously.

“Oh, drat,” Zelena feigns a pout. “But we haven't seen you in ages. Regina has been positively miserable without you. Do come round soon!”

Regina looks like she might blow the entire diner to smithereens. Emma swears that there is smoke coming out of her ears. She definitely smells something burning; Granny wouldn't stand for that, so it can only be coming from Regina.

“We all miss you,” Henry calls out, trying to reign in his aunt. “Come for dinner!”

“Yeah,” Emma yells with a wave of her hand, nearly tumbling out of Granny's. “Maybe!”

…

…

Now that Emma is aware of what her feelings for Regina actually are, they're impossible to ignore. She never really thought about how much she thinks about Regina in a single day until she knew why she was thinking about her so often. She nearly calls or texts Regina over a hundred times. Starting drafts of things and deleting them immediately. Or saving them, just in case.

To go from it being Regina, Henry and herself together, everyday for almost two months to basically nothing is jarring. Emma is irritated and grouchy and snaps at everyone apart from Henry and Lily. Her mother finally snaps back, yelling that whatever Emma is upset about, she 'better use her words and explain it right now or no one is leaving this apartment!'

Leo starts wailing, upset that his mother and sister are upset and picking up on the tension in the room. Snow calmly rocks him in her arms and waits, staring at Emma.

“He's crying,” Emma says.

“Yes he is, and he's also fine. Babies cry. So let's have it.”

Snow has taken her vow to be better to heart. According to Henry, and herself, she spoke with Regina at length about Leo's name. (Not Leopold anymore, simply Leo.) And she has defended Zelena to the dwarves multiple times over, declaring that she must have a chance to redeem herself. She no longer self-righteously declares herself as 'good' or a hero. She doesn't try to have the final word making decisions as a town ruler anymore; instead, really listening and collaborating with everyone. Regina more than anyone.

It's infuriating to have her mother and Regina on such good terms while Regina is freezing Emma out. And she yells as such over Leo's cries. Snow stops rocking him momentarily.

“Oh, I didn't... I mean I know you've become friends now. And I did notice that you two haven't really been seeing each other much lately. But I didn't know that...” she tilts her head at Emma curiously, taking up rocking Leo again. “Hum,” is all she says.

The look on her mother's face feels dangerous, and Emma leaves the apartment hastily.

She runs into Hook.

He has been moody and lashing out at everyone since their break up nearly three weeks ago. The fact that all it took was Emma's rejection to go back to his 'villainous ways' just makes Emma roll her eyes and feel all the better about her decision.

He looks drunk, and he sways up to Emma mockingly. If she weren't a grown woman with extensive self defense training, a gun and a badge, magic, and intimate knowledge of Hook's fighting skills, she might be frightened. As it is, she's uncomfortable and wary.

“Swan!” he yells cheerfully. “Just the woman I wanted to see.”

Emma ignores him and heads over to her bug. “Go home Killian,” she says.

“I don't want to, I want to talk to you. Now, why did you break up with me for a lady who will never return your affections?” he bites. Emma's shoulders tense. Lily knows what she looks like when she is infatuated with someone; her mother is making a point to be more aware of her emotions; Zelena is too smart for her own good and loves to tease, but Hook? She hadn't thought that she was being that obvious with her feelings.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Emma says carefully, “but you're drunk. You should get home.”

“She's far out of your league Swan,” he leans over and slurs, rank breath hot on her ear.

“Go home,” Emma snaps again, then gets into her car and slams on the gear.

Emma is driving like she’s angry. She knows that she should slow down. Calm herself and be rational. But Hook's words ring through her ears again and she just speeds up. He's right, is the thing. Emma's feelings for Regina are ludicrous. Regina has all but come out and said so. She has avoided her for weeks and Emma feels like an idiot teenager with an unreciprocated crush.

When she swerves at the sharp curve up ahead, she knows that she is going way too fast, but it's too late to do anything about it. Emma hears her tires squeal against the pavement, then she feels the car flip. Something sharp and painful slams into her side, and Emma goes unconscious.

…

…

She wakes up groggy and confused. Her head is killing her, and when she tries to sit up her entire body protests. She groans and quells the urge to vomit. She knows that she is in a hospital. It's not as jarring as it's often depicted in movies. The steady beeping from the monitor beside her bed tells her that she's alive, and the swimmy feel of her head tells her that she is loaded up with painkillers.

That, and a nurse walks in and informs her that she was in a car accident and is now in a hospital.

Then Whale shows up. He explains to her that she flipped her bug close to the outskirts of town. No one else was hurt. She has a concussion and is bleeding internally.

They are about three minutes into prepping her for surgery, when Regina comes barreling into the room. Emma can hear her threatening nurses and orderlies for a good minute and a half before she can even see her. Emma thinks maybe the drugs they've given her are much stronger than she initially thought, because she has only twice, in all of knowing her, seen Regina look this terrified; when Henry was poisoned, and when he was kidnapped.

Regina is dressed in silk pajamas, the same ones that she was wearing the night Emma asked to crash on her couch all those months ago. Her face is devoid of makeup, and her hair is starting to curl at the ends. There is a blind, wild sort of panic in her eyes, they can't seem to stop scanning everything in her line of sight. When she finally sees Emma, she sucks in a breath and rushes forward. Emma thinks maybe she is going to get a hug out of this.

“You absolute goddamn _idiot!_ ” Regina snaps loudly.

Nope, no hug.

Regina runs a shaking hand through her hair and begins pacing in front of Emma's bed. All of the nurses in the vicinity eye her warily and some of them take a few steps back. “That fucking car, I can't believe I've ever consented to Henry riding in it,” she levels Emma with a glare. “Never again. He is never setting foot in that car again. Neither are you. I'm having it impounded.”

“What!” Emma squawks. “No!”

Regina bends down over the bed, her face pressed close to Emma's and her voice dangerously low. “You are being prepped for surgery right now, because you drove around like a maniac in a terrible, old, unsafe car. This is not up for debate,” she hisses.

“Whale said I was bleeding internally, that’s where the blood is supposed to be!” Emma protests.

Regina's nostrils flare and Emma thinks this is it, Regina is actually going to murder her this time. Instead, something much, much worse happens. Regina's eyes well up with tears and she backs as far away from Emma as the small hospital room will allow, turning herself around to face the wall. Emma watches in horror as her shoulders shake three times and she presses her forehead up against the wall.

“Regina?”

“Idiot,” she hisses, shaking twice more, then straightening her back. Emma can't see, but it looks like she wipes at her eyes. “You're actually making _jokes_ about this?” she bites out through clenched teeth. “Do you have any idea how—” she stops, swallows “—how Henry would feel if something happened? Or your parents? Because something could still happen. Internal bleeding is serious Emma! You could die!” Her voice breaks in two, like a hard piece of sugar.

The only sound coming out of the room is from the steady beeping of the monitor. Emma closes her eyes and listens to it. “I know,” she whispers after a moment. “I'm scared, so I made a stupid joke.”

Her eyes are still closed, but she feels Regina move over towards her, then a thumb rubs gently at her forearm. “You are not going to die,” she says fiercely, like if she says it with enough conviction, she can will it to be true.

Emma smiles shakily, eyes still closed. She can't look at Regina right now. If she does, she'll start to cry. Because bleeding internally _isn't_ a joke, and she drove like a maniac and she brought this on herself, and she _could_ die tonight because she was an idiot. She was angry because Hook told her the truth. She is in love with Regina, and Regina isn't in love with her back, and she might die now. Emma keeps her eyes closed.

“Is my mom here?” she asks. “Is Henry?”

“You are not going to die,” Regina hisses again. “And I am not going to let you scare Henry. When you wake up, you can tell him that he will never be riding in that car again, and that you will never be giving him driving lessons.”

“Yeah,” Emma says quietly, “okay.”

Regina mumbles something in Spanish under her breath. Emma wishes she paid more attention in high school.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing, you're going to be fine. Whale is an absolute moron, but he knows medicine. Also, he knows I'll eviscerate him if anything happens to you.”

Emma laughs, “Big threat,” she opens her eyes.

“Typical threat,” Regina says, waving it off. They stare at each other for a moment, and Emma very nearly spits out that she loves Regina. Just in case. Even if she doesn't love her back. Emma wants her to know in case she dies. Regina must see something in Emma's face, because she rises, backing away again. “You have no idea how annoying your mother is going to be now. I'm going to have to hold her hand all through your surgery,” she says, as if she's telling Emma that she is about to willingly walk into a torture chamber. The fact that she is even considering holding Snow's hand, shows progress Emma can't help but smile at. The image is hilarious. She feels better already.

“I'll try to bleed less so it goes by quickly for you then,” she says. Regina looks down at her again and smiles. There is the barest hint of something that reminds Emma of their time in the Enchanted Forest, but it's gone in a second. And Whale walks in with two nurses.

“We've got to get you into surgery now Emma,” he says.

Regina's hands ball into fists at her sides. She steps forward, and for a moment, Emma thinks she is going to bend over and kiss her on the forehead, but she just looks at Emma. Locks their eyes together and stares. “I'll wait to impound the bug till after you've woken up,” she says a moment later.

“I'm gonna fight you on that.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Whale and the nurses wheel Emma away, and she watches Regina until they turn her around a corner, and she can't see her anymore.

…

…

When Emma wakes up a second time, the steady beeping of the monitor is still going, but now, she isn't alone. Regina and Henry are curled up together in an armchair, asleep. Henry is half on her lap due to lack of room. Emma smiles. Snow is slumped over in another chair to her right, her upper body on Emma's bed, their hands tangled together. David walks into the room quietly, paper cups balanced in his hands. He lights up when he looks over at Emma, moving to set down the cups on a small table.

He bends over and brushes some hair out of Emma's eyes. “Hi,” he whispers, “how're you feeling?”

“Like I'm on a lot of drugs.”

He laughs softly. “Well, you are. Whale said everything went really well. You're gonna be okay.”

“Hum,” Emma's mouth is far too dry, she smacks her lips together. David reaches over and grabs a glass of water, holding the straw up to Emma's lips. She lets him, and sucks the whole glass down. “Good to know,” she says once the water is all gone. “Regina was threatening everyone. Disembowelment and all that fun stuff.”

David laughs again. “Yeah, I know. I'm the one who had to pull her away from a nurse who told us we couldn't wait in your room.” Something in her father's face shifts, and he looks at Emma a little oddly. “She cares about you very much,” he says.

“Well... we're friends now,” Emma says, shrugging and regretting the movement immediately.

“Yeah...” he says, trailing off. He looks between Emma and Regina, then shakes his head and smiles. “Well, it's nice. I'm glad that she and your mother are... I don't know if I'd use the word friends.”

“Me either,” Emma smiles. “Not trying to kill each other is a big improvement though.”

David grins. “Definitely.”

Snow shifts and lifts up her head, gasping when she sees that Emma is awake. “You're okay!” she yells, startling Henry and Regina. Henry nearly falls off the chair, only Regina's arms grabbing him on instinct keeps him in place. “Oh, Emma, you scared us!” Snow says, and jumps forward to hug Emma. She yelps in pain, and Snow yanks herself back immediately. “Sorry! Sorry, I'm sorry. I was just...” her eyes well up with tears and she grabs Emma's hand again. “I was worried.”

“It's okay. I'm fine.”

“You're not actually,” Regina says, rising and moving forward with Henry. Her hands on his shoulders, thumb rubbing reassuringly. He won't look Emma in the eye. “You're going to be in recovery for well over a month at the very least. Probably closer to three. And you're going to need help doing basic things for weeks.”

“You really know how to cheer a girl up,” Emma jokes. “Hey, kid,” she reaches her arm out and he takes it after a moment's hesitation. “I'm okay,” she promises. He nods. “I'm really tired though.”

“Of course!” Snow says, “you need your rest. Dr Whale says you can come home in three days or so. There's lots of care information to go over. Things you can and can't eat, when to take medication, exercises to strengthen your muscles, stuff like that.”

“Yay,” Emma says dryly.

“Go to sleep Miss Swan,” Regina snaps. It might be the best thing she's ever heard. Not being dead feels great.

…

…

Emma doesn't know what happened, but three days later, she is discharged from the hospital and taken to Regina's home. Not her parent's apartment. Neither Snow nor Regina will say anything other than, 'there's more space', and 'Leo won't keep you up'. Emma doesn't complain, she's on far too many painkillers to care.

Zelena is waiting for them, and helps Regina get Emma up into a guest room. Emma frowns, noting that this isn't what has become Zelena's room. “You have two guest rooms and I was sleeping on your couch for like a week?” she whines.

“You asked if you could sleep on my couch. Not one of my guest rooms.” Regina says, dishing out Emma's medication.

“If I could lift my arm high enough, I might try to slap you.”

Regina smiles devilishly. “Take these, I'll be back to check on you in a few hours.”

…

…

Emma is grumpy and constantly in pain. Nothing tastes good, not that she has much of an appetite or is allowed to eat anything good anyway.

Zelena keeps on making her this tea that tastes terrible; Emma pretends to drink it, and when she isn't looking, dumps it over the flowers littering the room. One of them might be dying because of it. Emma warns Henry not to drink the tea.

He brings Emma basically his entire comics book collection to stop herself from getting bored. Emma thumbs through as many of them as she can before her eyes start watering and she falls asleep.

Her mother calls, every four hours to ask Regina if she has given Emma her medication.

Lily sends her text messages of herself in dragon form, besides a werewolf Ruby. With the caption: _taken by my mom, who turned into a dragon afterwards. Damn our lives got weird_. Emma laughs until she is crying in pain.

Her father sends her book recommendations. He has been slowly making his way through the entirety of Storybrooke's library. Belle is having to call out to get newer books delivered. He also sends her vague messages about Regina that Emma doesn't understand.

…

…

Henry walks Emma over to the window. Regina and Zelena stand outside in the driveway. Together, they raise their arms and blow up Emma's bug. All that's left is some yellow dust.

Henry winces. “Sorry Ma. Mom did try to get it fixed first. The mechanic said it was beyond repair. He was going to use it for scrap metal, but Mom wouldn't let him. She said she didn't want anyone else to get shoddy parts. But I think she just knew how much it meant to you.”

“She has magic though,” Emma pouts. “She magically blew it up. She could have magically put it back together instead!”

Henry looks down at his feet.

“We should blow up things more often,” Zelena says gleefully from down in the driveway. Regina took the bracelets preventing her from using her magic away a week ago. “This is fun.”

“That was way more theatrical and dramatic than it needed to be!” Emma yells down at them. “You could have just had it impounded like a normal person!”

Regina grins up at her fiendishly.

…

…

Whatever embarrassment Emma felt while she was helping Regina in the Enchanted Forest, is multiplied by about a million now. She can only barely manage using the toilet on her own, she refuses to have Regina help her there. It's bad enough that she needs help showering. She puts it off for almost a full week.

Regina spends the entire time undressing Emma snapping at her about her blasted car. Emma grits her teeth and tries desperately to ignore the fact that she is naked, in front of a woman she is very attracted to, and in a whole lot of pain.

“I can do it,” Emma insists once she is in the shower.

“Really,” Regina asks, one eyebrow arched in a dare. “Lift up your arms and shampoo your hair then.”

Emma tries, but she nearly doubles over in pain. Regina doesn't look compassionate about it at all. But, she doesn't complain once about her clothes or bathroom floor getting wet as she helps Emma bathe. And, as she massages the shampoo into Emma's hair, her fingers are incredibly gentle. They remain gentle as she wordlessly rinses out Emma's hair, and rubs a warm cloth over Emma's body. Emma holds her breath and prays that she will just evaporate with the steam from the shower. The air is thick with tension, but Emma has no idea what to say to break it. She just stands there, shivering—not from the cold—as Regina finishes washing her back and rinses out her hair once more.

They still don't speak as Emma towel dries herself off as much as she can, Regina helping her the rest of the way. Then helps Emma dress into comfortable clothes. Regina motions for Emma to sit down in a chair and begins brushing the tangles out of her hair. Emma watches her in the mirror.

“I could have stayed with my parents,” she mumbles after a moment. “You didn't have to...”

“Leo has a fever. You could get an infection. And your mother is incompetent enough, she'd never be able to handle both of her children sick.”

Emma smiles. “Well... thanks.”

Regina doesn't look at her. “Returning the favor I suppose.”

It's the first she has mentioned their time in the Enchanted Forest. Emma swallows. “You're...” she feels utterly childish asking this, “did I do something to make you mad at me when we were in the Enchanted Forest? Because it seemed like we were... and then you basically told me to fuck off.”

Regina's hands still in Emma's hair.

Emma lets out a shaky laugh. “I mean, is it my fault somehow that Robin stayed with Marian again? Because I don't know how it could be. Plus, you seem like you're friends with her, and she's the wife he left you for! I didn't even _do_ anything!”

Stupid. Childish and stupid. Emma clamps her mouth shut.

“I told Robin to stay with her.” Regina says quietly. Emma's eyes whip up to meet Regina's in the mirror. She looks nervous. Emma has no idea why. “He...” Regina sighs. “The idea of having a soulmate felt... safe, at first. Hopeful. That I could be happy again, that it was my destiny to be happy again was a relief. It felt like some sort of sign, or miracle.”

“But... then?”

“Then,” Regina resumes brushing Emma's hair. Slowly, patiently loosening each tangle with care. “It stopped feeling like a relief and started feeling like another choice that someone else made for me. Something else I was forced into without having a say in the matter. Still a pawn in someone else's grand design.”

“You felt tricked into loving him?”

“Not exactly.” Regina sets down the brush and begins to part Emma's hair off into three sections. Still not meeting Emma's eye in the mirror, she concentrates on braiding Emma's hair. “I could never be sure if what I felt was really for him, or because I was told that I should be feeling it. Because I wanted to feel it. I wanted to be in love again. And I thought I was, until he left with Marian.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault.”

“Yeah, but—”

Regina cuts her off. “You should stop apologizing to people for things that you have no control over.”

“Someday,” Emma says, shifting in her chair and hissing as her wound protests the movement.

“You need to take your pills,” Regina moves to get them and Emma calls her back.

“Can you finish braiding my hair first?” she asks. She's never really had anyone style her hair for her apart from the occasional hairdresser. No one has ever braided it for her before. She had to messily teach herself how to do it when she was seven. Kelly Daley teased her all through recess.

Regina must somehow see that in her face, because her face flashes quickly through pain and anger before nodding. She gently tugs Emma's hair back and forth, twisting it elegantly into one long braid down Emma's back. She ties it together with a deep purple hair tie, then looks at it for a moment before moving to get Emma's pills.

Emma takes them silently, chugging the full glass of water. They will take their effect quickly, and Emma is going to be unconscious in about ten minutes. She looks back up at Regina through the mirror. “What did you feel when he left with Marian?”

She doesn't expect Regina to answer, not really. So she is surprised when Regina looks her full in the eyes and says, “Clarity.”

“So... you don't love him? You just thought you did?” Emma dares to press further.

“I am immensely fond of him. I think we understand each other. I think we'll be friends for a long time,” she says, looking somewhere above Emma's head. Then, she meets Emma's eye. “But no, I'm not in love with Robin. I haven't been for a long time. If I ever was.”

“So much for me giving you your happy ending.”

Regina's lips quirk up into a tiny smile and she hums. “There's still time.”

Emma looks up at her. She's dressed as casually as Emma has ever seen her—apart from the silk pajamas—and her hair is growing longer and curling, a little unruly at the ends. She looks stunning. And she is looking down at Emma like... like she looked at her in the Enchanted Forest, moments before she broke the curse with True Loves Kiss. The air around them feels thick, and the drugs working their way into Emma's system are making her calm and loose.

So, Emma does something stupid.

She rises up from the chair before she can stop herself, so quickly that Regina doesn't have a moment to step back, and they're practically pressed against each other. Emma's hand reaches up to stroke Regina’s cheek with her thumb and Regina lets out a small gasp at the contact. They stand inches away from each other, Emma’s eyes dilated under half-open lids and her breath soft and even against Regina’s lips. Emma doesn't move, neither does Regina. She has had ample time to pull away, to call Emma an idiot and tell her that she is fooling herself. She doesn't.

Emma closes the distance between them and presses her lips to Regina's. The fervency with which Regina responds nearly topples Emma over. Still shaky on her legs from the accident. Regina's arms wrap around her, gentle with her wounds, but firm in pulling Emma closer to her. And Emma whines into Regina's mouth from the everything of it all. The sound causes Regina to buck slightly against her, and Emma really does fall then. Only Regina's strong arms around her keep her upright.

Emma has no idea how long they go on kissing for, only that her braid is a tangled mess afterwards. “I'll fix it,” Regina hums, pressing another kiss to Emma's lips.

“I'm gonna pass out,” Emma tells her.

“Well, I know that I'm a good kisser, but that is just a bit much.”

“No, the pills.” Emma whines. “They're gonna knock me out. I can already feel it.” Going to sleep right now is the very last thing that Emma wants, and her whole body fights against it helplessly. Regina laughs into her mouth.

“Regina, Emma's lovely mother called to inform us that Emma needs to take another pill,” Zelena says, walking into the room with the cordless phone in her hand. “I told her that we are perfectly capable of reading directions and following them ourselves but—” she freezes, looking at the two of them still tangled together and a devilish smirk etches onto her face. “Henry!” she calls over her shoulder. “You owe me ten dollars!”

“They're kissing!” he yelps, in a high pitched voice from downstairs. Regina yanks herself away from Emma, whose legs give out, groggy and half asleep already. Regina madly grabs at her, cursing in Spanish.

“That one I remember,” Emma grins. “Lily taught me.”

“Hush,” Regina snaps, and lowers Emma down onto the bed.

“Well, well, things are progressing quickly,” Zelena teases. “I don't think it's proper for me to place a bet with Henry about this.”

“Get out,” Regina hisses at her sister.

“The pills...”

“I gave them to her already! Which is why she is falling asleep now. Which is why we are leaving her alone!” Regina walks over and pushes Zelena out of the room. “Stop betting on things with Henry.”

“But it's fun,” Zelena protests. “And I'm winning money.”

Regina shoves her down the hall, Zelena cackling all the way. Then Emma can hear her call out in sing-song, 'Henry, I'll take cash on that thank you very much.'

Regina turns back to her, and Emma very much wants to stay awake, but there is no way she'll even last another full minute. Her eyelids feel too heavy, Emma closes them with a grin on her face. “Our family's so weird,” she hums.

She hears Regina suck in a breath, then she moves closer, bending down and placing a kiss on Emma's forehead. “Yes,” she says, her breath warm on Emma's face. She moves again and presses another kiss, this time, to Emma's lips. “Yes, they are.”

Emma falls asleep with a smile on her face and an imprint of Regina's lipstick covering her mouth. 

 


End file.
